


This Can't Be Legal

by Mellbell13



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Comedy, F/M, Gen, Homophobic Language, It all turns out okay though, M/M, Organized Crime, Pretty Much All The Characters, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 02:09:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3511298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellbell13/pseuds/Mellbell13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tino may have just screwed up his first date in a very long time, but hey, at least his tour business is working out... Until he and his employees find themselves in a sticky situation that may or may not involve kidnapping. And just when that date thing starts to turn around, he finds himself, and his oddball crew of workers, at the center of a rather unsavory investigation. </p><p>Meanwhile, his assistant manager wants all the shops to “become one” with his tour business, one of his workers is running an illegal bar out of the back of his shop, the local Censorship Committee has an issue with his Cross dressing tour guide, and someone’s taking their obsession with his secretary a little too far…</p><p>Now, if he could just manage to keep Berwald from getting pulled into all that…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mysterious Masked Man, And What NOT To Do on a First Date

 

“LUKAS! What am I going to do? It was HORRIBLE!”

There was silence on the other line for a moment before Lukas let out a breath and continued, calm and measured. “I figured it might be a bad idea to introduce you two. I'm sorry if he came across as frightening, but he’s actually a very nice person… he’s just not good with words.”

“No, it wasn’t him, it was ME.” He paused, forcing himself to continue. “I told him the _Beer Hat_ story.”

There was more silence, but Tino could just feel him silently snickering through the phone. “Not exactly a first date story, but it’s good for a laugh.”

“I was drunk out of my mind… I feel like I should call and apologize, but I'm just _so_ embarrassed. He paid for the meal and everything.”

“If you like, I can talk to him.”

“No, no, I don’t want to know. He was really great, I just ruin every good thing that comes my way.”

“What exactly did you say, Tino,” Lukas snorted.

“Well after my fifth glass of wine I started talking about…” there was a crash from down stairs and a thousand horrible possibilities rushed through his head. “Lukas, can I call you back? I think my booking manager’s fighting with one of my tour guides again. I have to keep them from destroying the shop again. Say hi to Emil for me.”

“Okay. See you around Tino.” Click.

He let out a long sigh then pushed his office chair back and stood, scanning over the photos of his family the last time they visited his grandparents in Finland, and decorations purchased from various travels that plastered the walls among the lights and lanterns in every color imaginable. There was another sound from the shop, this time accompanied by what sounded like Feliciano screaming. Hmm… they didn’t usually drag him into their fights, and Elizabeta was pretty good at keeping the casualties low.

Then again, Gilbert would gladly use you as a human shield.

And Alfred would try to break it up and “Be the hero,” as he would put it.

“Too many big personalities,” he sighed to himself, “it’s a wonder no one’s already wound up injured or dead.”

He pushed the beaded curtain out of his way and half jumped, half stomped down the stairs, just to give them fair warning that he was on his way down. That was usually enough to scare them into submission.

Heaven help the sucker who caused him trouble on an already terrible day.

He reached the landing and froze. Something didn’t seem right. It was quiet now. Elizabeta and Gilbert hadn’t been this silent since he hired them, and Alfred’s obnoxious laugh wasn’t ringing through the air.

 His next steps were cautious. Perhaps it was best to stay calm. There might be an important guest here, or worst-case scenario, the cops. It was neither.

He reached the bottom step to see his secretary, Bella, huddled under her desk, eyes wide with terror. Past that, the staff – both Vargas brothers, Elizabeta, Alfred, and Torris – were sitting on the ground, hands on their heads, while a man in a white mask had his foot on Gilbert’s back, and a gun trained on his head.

“I'm going to say this one more time!” he growled. “If someone doesn't tell me where Bella is in the next ten seconds, I'm gonna blow him to pieces!”

Tino cast a look at her and she shook her head then mouthed “please,” tears streaming down her cheeks, leaving long streaks of makeup.

Of course, handing her over had never even crossed his mind.

“One… Two…”

He grabbed the discarded broom leaning to the left of the doorframe and charged, ducking under the other desk and swinging at him from a decent distance.

But he saw it coming.

The shot rang in his ears a moment before everything cut to black, and he’d never be sure what happened in those split seconds that stretched on into hours, but everything slowed, and, instead of flashes of his parents and siblings, the images of last night’s oh-so-awkward dinner burst into his mind.

And then it was just darkness and a stray scream that sounded remarkably like Bella.

*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

“So, um, what do you do?” Tino laughed, trying to keep the butterflies in his stomach at bay. From their table, he could see the moon, a huge orange crescent, hanging low in the sky as wisps of gray clouds drifted across it, casting shadows down over their dinner as the barely visible stars fought back the light pollution.

“M'rk'ting m'n'ger for Ikea’s Am'ric'n d'v'sion,” he grunted, picking at his chicken Marsala.

“Oh wow, that’s crazy! I buy Ikea furniture for my office all the time. I run a tourism company…” he looked angry… really angry. “We do local tours, and water sports lessons, and we drum up business to some of the local attractions.” He finished his second glass of wine, because that look on his date’s face was starting to make him nervous. “It’s pretty cool actually… and um, our office is also a gift shop… and everyone who works there is really friendly. We’re like a big family. I mean sometimes Elizabeth and Gilbert fight, but it’s usually pretty peaceful.” Oh no, he was rambling. He refilled his glass and chugged it.

“Sounds l'ke f'n,” Berwald replied. Why was he glaring like that?

“Yeah… I could get you a free appointment if you like.” Silence. He finished his glass and poured another. The bottle was almost empty now. “Anything you like… jet skiing, and parasailing… and boating… and… um…” he sipped (gulped) his drink.

“I’ll g've it a try sometime.” Why did he sound so monotone. Was he just pitying him? And what was with that look of contempt? Gah… he needed another drink.

And then…

“Burrrrrwald,” he purred as they left the restaurant together. Was he leaning on Berwald’s arm? And he hadn’t been pushed off? Huh, that was a good sign.

“Tino, I’ll dr've ya home.”

“You’re so nice Berwald… you don’t have to.”

“Yer drunk. Can't let you go al'ne.” The moon was hanging higher in the sky now, dark clouds wrapped around it.

“You’re the greatest. Hey… you wanna…” he hiccupped, “you wanna here a fun story from my work?”

Berwald didn’t reply, he just opened the door of his car and ushered Tino in.

“So, sometimes I give tours when… when Alfred or Gilly (he runs a secret bar in the back of my shop, but _shhh_ , he doesn’t know I know)… or Felik… Feliks… has the day off. Feliks is our most popular employee…” he started laughing as Berwald started the car. “But… ha… it’s a trap, if you know what I mean…”

“…No. Not really.”

“Anyway, I was giving this tour, around Hetalia City, in one of our busses, and this guy with one of those beer hats stands up and starts yelling at me that I was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. And I was like, ‘sir, you're an idiot, because I'm not a girl, and you can't drink on these tours. So he gets embarrassed, and starts yelling, and throws his beer can at me.”

“Wh't did you do?”

“I tell my driver to pull over, and tell him to get off the bus. So he follows me off and tries to grab my boob, but I don’t have boobs cuz… cuz I'm not a chick. So he gets upset and tries to run away… and at this point, I'm sooo mad… so I grab a flower pot off a storefront and volt it at him… and I mean… I mean this thing got some air. Caught him right in the head. BOOM!” Berwald swerved a little at the sudden outburst.

“Easy,” he grumbled.

“Soorrrryyyy,” Tino giggled, tracing a finger up Berwald’s bicep. You’ve got great muscles, ya know that?”

“So wh't happ'ned to the man?”

“Oh yeah… so anyway, his left beer can exploded. There was fizz everywhere. And this crowd starts gathering, and children were pointing, and then the police were called. They didn’t actually arrest me, I mean, my driver was about to claim it was him instead, but it all turned out okay, because we had so many witnesses. I had to pay for the flowerpot though.”

Berwald was silent for a moment, so he decided, against his better judgment, to go on. “And now, he’s a registered sex offender. Pretty neat, huh?”

*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

When the darkness cleared and Tino’s ears stopped ringing, less than five seconds had passed, and the situation hadn’t gotten any better.

“Seven… eight…” he flipped off the safety on the gun. “Nine…”

“Hello friend.”

Until that moment, Tino had forgotten about Ivan.

The teenage assistant manager-in-training was standing behind the masked man, a hand on each shoulder and an eerie smile plastered on his face.

For a few seconds, the criminal didn’t know what to do. “Hey, what do you…” Ivan grabbed the hand he was holding the gun in.

“Maybe you don’t know,” he began in a way so cheerful, it was surreal. “Guns and other weapons can really hurt people. You shouldn’t just wave them around like that. And you keep asking for Bella, but it seems to me that you just want to hurt her, and we can't have that, da?”

“Hey! Let go…”

“ _Nyiet_. You see, Mister intruder, if you hurt any of my friends here, and you already knocked down the manager, I’d have to take you into the back and pull out each one of your teeth in a very painful way until only your bloody gums are left, and then I’ll make a nice necklace out of those teeth and give it to my sister as you cry yourself unconscious because of the pain…”

The man had fear etched in his eyes, and Tino took the distraction (mostly so he wouldn’t have to listen to Ivan’s rather unnervingly calm description of punishment) and grabbed the fallen broom, knocking his feet out from under him. In the half second that followed, the only thing Tino would recall was a flash of white hair, Elizabeta’s battle cry, and Alfred laughing as all three lunged for him.

*-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

“Eh, Bella, calm down, that bastard’s getting what he deserved,” Lovino said as Tino handed her a cup of water.

He was answered by a choking wail as she fought to wipe away the tears.

“Ve, it’s okay Bella,” Feliciano cooed, “Bella, you're crushing my hand.”

“He knows my big brother… what if something happened to him?” she sobbed without releasing Feliciano.

“That shady bastard causes you too much grief anyways,” Lovino snorted.

Tino winced as her sobbing got a little louder. If only Lovino could have a little more tact. “Torris, can you take her home. Make sure her brothers are there, and make sure they know what’s happened.” There was a series of thumps and a muffled yell from the back room. “But tell them the intruder got away. Bella, what’s his name?”

She dabbed her eyes with a paper towel and sniffled. “Sadik Adnan I think.”

“Okay, Torris, like I said, just tell him he got away.” There was another crash from the back room. “And nobody breath a word about it to anyone, got it?”

“Maybe we should call the police?” Torris gulped.

“Hey idiot, you know those drug runners control the police, right?” Lovino scowled. He’ll be out in a day and then they’ll be knocking on our door.”

“He’s right, so for now, until I figure out what to do, just be quiet.”

“That’s okay,” Ivan began, “because if anyone tries to break into our shop again they will be very sorry because I will…” the front door opened with the chime of a bell and Tino grabbed his arm to silence him.

“H'llo,” Berwald nodded as he strolled in.

Tino glanced at Torris and he rushed to help Bella up.

“Is th's a good t'me?”

His question was answered by another crash from the back.

“Um… oh, yeah, totally. We are um… we were dealing with a stray cat that found its way in and scared my secretary. She’s very jumpy. So, are you here for… uh… that free tour or activity I promised you?”

“No, not really.” And after a pause. “I w'nted to ask you to go out w'th me again on Fr'day, but I d'dn’t have your n'mber.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first fic on this site! Each chapter will follow a different character in a contained story that will follow the plot thread. At some point, I guess they’ll intersect. Pairing will probably change at some point. I hope to update once or twice a month... I apologize in advance if I don't.


	2. The Wonderful Idea of Taking Over Every Other Store On The Block

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan's up to something... meanwhile more of the neighborhood's residents make appearances

Ivan was the assistant manager.

But he decided that shouldn’t stop him from making Tino’s Tours the best it could be.

“Oh, manager Torris! You should put the candies near the front of the store. It will bring in more customers.”

He jumped and spun around, nearly dropping the boxes of truffles he was arranging, shock and a little bit of fear clearly etch in his eyes. “Oh… Ivan. Well, I'm setting them up here because there’s a candy shop next door, so people don’t really come here for sweets. That’s why… um, we put them near the register.”

“Oh, I understand,” he smiled as Elizabeta exited the backroom, the spear, which usually sat in the grasp of the decorative suit of armor in the corner, in her hand. “We need to do something about the shop next door. I will get on that, da?”

But Torris hadn’t heard him, because he was too focused on Elizabeta. “Why did you have the spear from the suit of armor?”

“Oh, it’s very useful against our… stray cat.”

“Tino said you shouldn’t mess with him, Elizabeta!”

But Ivan didn’t hear the rest, because he was already on his way out the door. The old cobblestone main street was alive with activity. All sorts of shops from their humble tour business to all manners of boutiques and restaurants to the theater across the street and the various art galleries created a world-famous and very vibrant art scene. The surrounding neighborhoods were mostly young students in old apartments that matched Main Street’s Mediterranean charm.

Matthias’ Sweets Shoppe was known for its European Desserts and over the top Owner. Personally, Ivan found him annoying. For now, though, he was nowhere in sight. It was just one of the two boys who worked for him – a little Burnette with a nametag that said Ravis. He was sweeping the front steps, and jumped a little when Ivan approached him.

“Oh, hello there. Is the owner here?”

“No, he went out to make a delivery. I can take a message.”

“He must be understaffed if he runs deliveries himself? I guess your business is not doing too well?”

“Oh no, he just likes to get to know the customers. We’re doing so well that Mathias and Eduard bought and set up these big TV monitors that have video games and stuff on them and…”

“Hello _Mon Cher_! Can I interest you in some flowers! We have a special today on tulips!”

Ravis let out a little scream as that French florist with the shop down the block pushed his cart between them.

“No thank you,” Ivan smiled, then shoved the cart away. “So Ravis, perhaps your boss would like to consider a merger with Tino’s Tours.”

“Gee, I'm not sure he would like that… Tino sent you?”

“You know what is good for a merger? Lilies!” the Frenchman interjected.

“Tino doesn’t know. It’s going to be a… surprise, da?”

“Begonias are good for surprises.”

“Francis! Stop bothering them you git!” the owner of Arthur’s Occult and Punk Apparel yelled from his shop window.

“Get a life you uncultured little man!” Francis yelled back, then turned back to Ivan. “So those Begonias.”

“I do not need them. So Ravis, do we have a deal?”

“I don’t even know what we’re agreeing to.”

“Simply put, you and I will work on merging all the shops on this street into one.”

“I think that defeats the purpose of a main street,” he squeaked.

“Oh, really?” Ivan wondered, pressing down on the his head. He really was so short. “Well I think it will benefit everyone! And we will all be happy, and instead of competing, everyone will work together. And you're going to help me, right, Ravis?” he could feel him shaking.

“I… um… okay, I guess if it helps everyone, then it’s a good idea, mister…?”

“Ivan. And don’t tell anyone. Okay?”

“You know what’s good for shady dealings?” Francis said, jutting into their conversation again, “Mums!”

“Okay Mister Ivan, I… I won't tell anyone.”

“Ivan!” Tino poked his head out of the doorway next door. “I need your help with some paperwork.”

“Be right there!” Ivan smiled.

“Hey! Tino!” a tall man with hair that was gelled up in a way that had to be intentionally obnoxious strolled up with a T-shirt that said MATHIAS’ SWEETS and a button that said Mathias. “How was your date the other day? I tried to ask Berwald but he completely ignored me, and so did Lukas, so I thought I'd ask you, neighbor.”

“Oh, it was okay… we’re going on another date Friday.”

“You know what’s good for a second date? ROSES!” Francis yelled, practically throwing himself into their line of conversation. “They’re on sale!”

“Wow, a sale?” Matthias grinned.

“Remember Ravis, it’s a surprise!” Ivan grinned as he backed up towards Tino’s Tours.

*-----------------------------------------------------------------*

“Another good day boys!” Gilbert announced, as he poured Ivan another shot.

His little bar was set up in one of the storage rooms in the back of the shop, the one with the door going to the outside. The street behind them was notorious for being the dark, shady side of the neighborhood. Same charming houses, but less care and more drugs. From the barred windows, Ivan could see laundry flapping from clotheslines, glowing in the afternoon sun.

The usual wonderers and punks off the streets had found their way to Gilbert’s bar – an old, metal countertop propped up on wooden crates, with some mismatched barstools and a bent metal wrack above their heads where all the chipped glasses hung. It was a good way to end the day, with some vodka.

“Sometimes I just don’t know what to do about those damn kids…” Mr. Wang, who owned the Chinese bistro next door, ranted, already drunk. “They don’t listen. They were so cut when they were little…” he hiccupped. “And now they hate me. They do their work sure, but there’s so much contempt! Pfft. Teenagers!”

He definitely wouldn’t be so upset once his business joined with Tino’s and Matthias’.

“Hey Gilly, don’t you, like, think you might want to be a little more quiet about this place?” Feliks wondered, slipping into the bar from the shop. One of the punks whistled, probably sarcastically, at his pink, strapless dress. He didn’t always cross-dress, but when he did, he was sure to be annoying about it.

“Why, no one cares,” Gilbert grinned, offering him a beer from the mini-fridge under the counter.

“Well,  I'm just saying because we have… if anyone looks into the incident, from yesterday…”

“Maybe you should go back inside and do you job.”

“Bite me, Russian,” he scowled.

He refused to call him Ivan because of ‘what the Russians did to his people.’ But whatever. Polish people over reacted about the partitions.

“Like and it’s not just that,” he went on. “There are these crazy people from the Censorship Society that have been looking into Main Street. They’ve been signing up for my tours and , like, heckling me for how I dress. If they have a problem with this, don’t you think they’re going to like, totally flip when they find out you're selling alcohol to minors?”

“They won't find out. And besides you, who’s a minor?”

“Like, Ivan is. And Alfred. And Bella. And Torris.”

“Oh Feliks, you're over reacting. People target you because you're annoying,” Ivan pointed out.

“At least I have friends,” he scowled, turning and storming out. Ouch…

“He didn’t mean it buddy,” Gilbert laughed, nervous.

“That’s okay, soon enough, the whole street will be my friend!”

“Huh, why’s that?”

“Oh, it’s a surprise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, like I said, every chapter focuses on one character and their subplot. this one's kind of short, and the length will probably vary greatly from chapter to chapter, but if they're short, I'll post two at a time. Comments and suggestions are very welcome to let me know what you think, or to give me ideas for what direction I should take this.


	3. That Time We Took a Detour Into a Horror Movie

“We’re not gonna die, right buddy? Everything's gonna be okay. Someone’s gonna come help us, and…”

“Matthias, shut up.”

He looked at Lukas, stung.

“You’re annoying me.”

“I’m just staying positive…” he was just trying to keep his cool in front of Lukas.

“Shhh!” Lukas closed his eyes, hand gripping the roots of the fallen log they had taken shelter beneath, gnarled and twisted into the rocky side of the hill. The leaves stirred above them, and even in the daytime, their branches choked out all but a little light, casting them into blue shadows.

“Don’t fall asleep Lukas! We have to get back to Emil.”

“Something made the leaves crunch nearby. Keep your voice down.”

He saw the color visibly drain from Matthias’ face. “Luke… I have to tell you something important…”

“Matt, it can wait. Let’s move.” He forced himself to his feet, crouching low, and slipped out from their hiding place, keeping close to the towering ancient tree trunks. Beyond the trees and the bushes blooming the last of their berries, he saw it move.

A shadow, slipping between darkness and light. So fast it might have only been his eyes playing with him, but when he heard twigs snap nearby he felt his heart seize up.

“Luke!” Matthias tripped over the dead leaves and went face down on the forest floor.

“Matt! Get up!” Lukas growled.

But it was too late, because something in a dark hood was stepping out of the trees behind him.

Without thinking Lukas reached for the first thing his hand would touch – a dead branch – and swung it at Matthias’ attacker. It splintered into a million little moldy wood chips and the black thing went crashing backwards, breaking branches along the way.

Matthias got to his feet and in the next instant, they were running as fast as they could, leaves crunching under their shoes, as they both silently prayed they were going in the right direction. Lukas was the first to reach the drop. He knew they had gone up a hill, he had just expected a slope on the other side, not a…

Even though he stopped in time, that moron Matthias didn’t.

It wasn’t quite a sheer drop, and it wasn’t very far, but it was steep enough to leave them both with cuts and bruises when they hit the bottom.

“You idiot,” Lukas grunted, clinging to the slate as he managed to get to his feet. “Matthias!” he nudged him with his boot. “Get up.”

“Go on without me, buddy. This is it, it’s the end.”

“Matt, we fell less than ten feet. It wasn’t even a fall. We rolled down.”

He sat up and glanced around, as if surprised that he wasn’t dying. “Oh. Oh man, we gotta get back to Emil.”

“It’s this way. I remember seeing those rocks.”

“No, I think it’s the other way.” No reply. He kept walking. “Lukas!” he whined following after him. “What if that thing is still looking for us?”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t yell,” he hissed, spinning around to face him.

Matthias stopped short, almost falling, and scratched at his arm. “Sorry.”

But Lukas wasn’t really looking at him. His eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open.

“What?”

“Matt… run.”

And then he was gone. And Matthias was on his heels, because even though he didn’t have time to look back, he’d already seen the shadow leap down the slope in the reflection of Lukas’ eyes.

Ahead of him, Lukas made a sharp turn and clambered uneasily up a hill of large, moss-draped rocks, slipping and cursing once or twice before he reached the top and froze, glancing back at Matthias as he followed him. “There.” He pointed to a ramshackle little cabin poking out of the shrubs and dead vines.

“What if someone lives there?”

“Are you kidding me? Look at it. The windows are all boarded up.”

Matthias couldn’t argue with that, and Lukas was already trying to pry the door open anyway, so he spared one last glance over his shoulder then threw himself into the ancient thing. The hinges creaked and the wood bent a little bit, but it finally fell open and they scrambled in.

The soft scrape of rusted metal made Matthias shudder as stray beams of light glinted off the hooks and saws hanging from half-screwed on shelves. The only other furniture in the room was a rotting couch in the corner missing all its cushions.

“What the hell?” Matthias whispered.

“Look,” Lukas said, pointing to a strangely modern looking metal table along the back, windowless wall, were plastic bags and Tupperware full of variously colored liquids were arranged around a crockpot.

“I think I've seen this movie…”

“Shut up Matt.”

“Did you just cough?”

“No…”

They looked at each other, eyes wide in the shadows, before something in the cabin’s other room sniffled, and then made a squeaking sound, like the springs of a bed squealing.

“Hide,” Lukas mouthed, slipping silently behind the couch.

Matthias huddled up next to him as they heard the creak of footsteps out into the main room and a long yawn.

And the door opened.

*

“Hey Lukas…”

“Silence.”

Matthias kicked his feet a little and tried – really tried – to stay still and quiet so Lukas could do his work, but his ADHD kicked in and he started singing the theme song of that movie he saw the other day.

“Matthias, shut up. Everything is not awesome. Nothing is awesome.”

“You seem kinda stressed, buddy.”

“No kidding. All these records are a mess and I need to come up with a new show idea by the end of the week or we’re really in trouble, and that Romanian bastard with the theater down the block will run us out of business.”

“Why don’t you just sell it?” Matthias shrugged, twirling his three long-stem roses around his fingers and gasping when the thorns caught him.

“I can't… he left it to me because he knew I wouldn’t.”

“Why can’t you just…”

“Lukas!” they both froze at the sound of footsteps coming up to the manager’s loft. “Lukas, you can't still be here it’s been two days and…” a boy, with hair so fair it was nearly white, poked his head into the room, features twisted into a scowl. “Oh. Matthias.”

“Emil! Hey, long time no see! I have some candy for you!”

“Lukas. You need to go home and sleep. Mom’s been asking about you.”

“Only if you call me Big Brother.”

“Never.”

“Wait,” Matthias scowled, “Lukas, you’ve just been up doing paper work for _two_ days? Geez. You're gonna get sick.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

“I'm fine. And there’s no way I'm going home to that shit show today. Too many relatives who won't leave.”

There was silence for a long minute.

“Matthias, why do you have three roses?” Emil wondered.

“Oh, they were having a sale, so I bought some, but the sale was only on non-standard numbers of roses under seven.”

“What…? Never mind,” Lukas scowled. “I'm not going home.”

“How about Emil organizes the files, and I’ll drive you to my house since it’s nearby?” Matthias grinned.

“It’s not _nearby_. It’s through the forest outside of town.”

“But it’s closer than your house.”

“I'm not doing paperwork,” Emil pouted.

“Can’t you just close up for today and start again tomorrow when you’re not falling asleep at your desk?”

“I hate to admit it, but Matthias is right, Lukas,” Emil shrugged. “And I’ll go with you guys because I can't stand sharing my room with Aunt Margie anymore.”

“Just another week or so, then they’ll all go back to Norway,” Lukas sighed, standing up. “What are you waiting for Matthias, get your keys. And don’t smile at me like that, it’s annoying.”

*

“Wow, Emil just fell right asleep back there.”

Lukas ignored him but glanced up at the rearview mirror to catch his little brother slumped in the back seat, snoring. Sometimes he forgot what he looked like when he wasn’t scowling.

The light faltered through the canopy of leaves before fading out completely as they passed into the forest, the smooth asphalt giving way to a barely paved road riddled with cracks and potholes.

“Why don’t we just take the highway?” Lukas sighed, bleary eyes on the woods.

“Because it takes longer. This is the shortcut.”

The car bounced as they hit a pothole jarring Lukas forward. He glanced back to make sure Emil was okay, and found him still asleep. “You’re going to damage your car on this road.”

“No I won't.” they hit another bump that make a less-than-pleasant shaking noise.

“You’ve obviously already damaged your brain.” They bounced again.

“You’re so mean.” And one more time…

 _Thunk_!

“Are we slowing down?” Matthias asked.

“You’re the one driving,” Lukas scowled.

 _Thunk_!

Matthias hit the gas and the engine let out a low rumble and a metallic clank. “Oh shit…”

Lukas let out a groan and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Go check it.”

“Wait… I don’t know what I'm looking for.”

“Why are you so useless?” he sighed, stepping out as Matthias opened the hood. They were hit by a cloud of steam that wafted over them before clearing out.

“It’s overheated. Call someone.”

“My phone’s not getting service. You?”

“I have Sprint,” Lukas shrugged. “It’s like pretending you have a phone.”

Matthias let out a giggle befitting of a teenage girl and looked up from the car. “Hey, Luke, who’s that?”

“Who? What are you…” his voice faltered out as he spotted it. Something in a dark hood, sweeping towards them, flickering between tree trunks. It pause in the shadows just beyond the road, moving slower, as it approached. Lukas spared one glance at Emil, asleep in the back seat, and his mind was made up.

Without a second thought, he turned and took off into the woods – anything to take whoever was crazy enough to stalk their car away from Emil.

“Lukas!” Matthias yelled after him, right on his heels. “What is that thing?”

“Is it following us?”

“Yeah… I think.”

Lukas stumbled to a stop for a second, just to look back over his shoulder, before he started running again. “Good.”

*

In Matthias’ relatively short life, not many things had ever made him fear for his own wellbeing.

This was one of those rare times.

“Hercules, I found one of your cats by the road. Stop bringing these things around here,” the newcomer to the cabin snapped.

“Sorry Gupta,” the first occupant, the one they had accidentally awoken, yawned. “But don’t be so loud, okay? I was sleeping.”

“What else is new? Has Sadik been back yet?”

“I don’t care.”

“I know you hate him, but I'm seriously worried. What if the cops have him? He’d rat us out.” Lukas elbowed Matthias as he shifted a little.

“Yeah probably,” Hercules agreed.

“Maybe Tim offed him. I heard he’d been trying to get his sister to go out with him.”

“If I was Tim, I’d do the same.”

“You’re doing it again. You're agreeing with every suggestion I come up with.”

“Sorry. Have you checked with Vlad and Danail?” Lukas tensed up.

“Yeah,” Gupta sighed. “Those two brats keep impeding progress. If they weren’t the only two chemists in town, I'd get rid of both of them. They were trying to get away with only giving me half the shipment until I threatened to send them both back to the fields I saved them from. They keep talking about a theater they think will pay off their debt to me.”

Matthias looked at Lukas again, and even in the near-total darkness, he could see the disbelief in his eyes. That Romanian kid who owned the theater down the street… involved with the neighborhood drug trade? Huh… who knew?

“They’re still young I guess.”

“Don’t make excuses for idiots, Hercules. Everything went okay while you were on guard?” Matthias could feel the sweat dripping down his neck.

“Yeah. I didn’t see anyone.”

And as if on cue, the sound of someone scratching at the wall behind Lukas and Matthias filled the air. It was a soft scrape that started off near the floor and traveled higher then lower again as it neared the door. The occupants of the shack had fallen silent. Matthias gripped Lukas’ arm, the sound of his heart echoing in his ears.

And then… it knocked on the door.

“The fuck?” Gupta snorted as both men, according to the creaking floor, neared the door. They cringed at the high screech of the hinges, and to their utter bewilderment, both men stepped out of the cabin.

“Oh my god,” Lukas gasped, standing up and climbing over the couch. “Hey, there’s a back door in the other room.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” Matthias gasped, running out ahead of him.

*

When Lukas’ feet hit pavement, he wanted to get down on his knees and kiss the ground.

But he had to get to Emil first.

They were only just up the road from where they started, and he was still curled up in the back seat, beneath on of Matthias’ jackets. “Thank god,” Lukas breathed.

“Maybe the car will start now,” Matthias laughed. But behind the cheerful eyes, he could see the fear. He turned the key and hit the gas, but beyond a few sounds akin to coughing, the machine didn’t do much in terms of linear motion.

“Try again,” Lukas whispered.

And he did. Again, and again.

With no results.

“Lukas, I have to tell you something.” His voice was almost shrill.

“What?”

He reached into the glove box and removed a folded piece of paper, hands drenched with sweat. “This is a list of everything I've ever done or meant to tell you. I'm just gonna read it now.”

“Stop being ominous Matt.”

“When we were in high school, I used to steal your lunch every day because you used chunky peanut butter on your sandwich. And senior year, I accidentally ran over your mailbox, and pretended I found it like that. Also, in college…”

“Matt, how long is this list? Don’t apologize for stupid shit.”

“Oh, okay, then there’s one last thing…”

And then they heard the scratching.

Just like the cabin, starting high on the car’s glass. “I just wanted to tell you that I…” then growing lower along the door, “that I…” and finally creeping back up the glass as the dark figure reached the front of the car. He shut his eyes. “That I…”

And it pressed itself to his widow.

They both screamed.

And so did the creature.

Except it wasn’t a creature. It was a Spanish looking man.

“Hello my friends, my name is Antonio! I've been trying to catch up with you for some time!”

Lukas looked horrified – rare, since he never showed emotion – and Matthias shuddered before he cracked the window. “Why… why were you following us?”

“I wanted to ask you…” he reached under his jacket and pulled out several boldly colored paper pamphlets. “Have you heard about your friendly local Censorship Society? We have meetings every Tuesday night at seven at the YMCA. There’s snacks.”

And Matthias and Lukas just stared on, dumbfounded.

*

“I can't believe I slept the whole way there,” Emil yawned.

“Neither can we!” Matthias grinned, filling a glass full of water and arranging the three roses into them.

“Don’t you have a real vase for those?” Lukas snorted as Emil vanished into the guest room.

“Nope!”

He let out a sigh. “So what were you going to tell me in the car before that lunatic interrupted you?”

“Hey, at least he helped us fix my car… and I forget. I’ll tell you another time.”

Lukas squinted at him, as if he already knew he was lying. “Those flowers look stupid.”

“Then you take them home and put them in a vase.”

“Sure, I will. If I ever build up the courage to go back.

 

 

 

 

Vlad ---- Romania

Danail ---- Bulgaria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, chapter 3! I'll probably go back to Finland's story next, and maybe a little Italy and Germany too. Feel free to comment and I do take suggestions, so if there’s anything anyone wants to see happen, let me know!


	4. Chapter 4: Pasta! And That Police Man You Definitely Shouldn’t Talk To

 

The moment Tino opened his eyes in the morning, everything was okay.

He wasn’t involved in a kidnaping. There was no police officer snooping around his store. No one had been attacked. And best of all, none of his employees had been flirting with, and or threatening to punch, the afore mentioned police officer.

And then he remembered that it wasn’t just a dream.

He let out a low groan and tried to stretch his very sore, very hung over, muscles, but something was blocking him. Actually it was someone.

Slowly, because the worst-case scenario could be very, very bad, he shifted around to meet the sleeping face of Berwald. The blood drained from his face. He forced himself not to scream and silently wondered how he could look so angry even when sleeping.

Okay… okay… he couldn’t panic. Think Tino, think. He didn’t remember anything after closing shop last night. Gil had offered to stay and finish up, which was nothing unusual, but…

He hadn’t been dumb enough to open his little bar, right? Not with the cops snooping around…

Oh god, the cops…

He was slapped out of his thoughts when Berwald opened his eyes and glowered at him.

And Tino may or may not have let out a very terrified shriek.

“Are ya okay?” Berwald grunted, sitting up.

“You scared me…” Tino laughed, nervous.

“Oh. S'rry.”

“Um… it’s okay. What happened last night?”

“You d'n’t rem'mb'r?”

Tino, in that moment, felt like running away in shame. And then he realized they were both still dressed. “No, really, what happened yesterday?”

*

“Boss! That twit Feliks hasn’t shown up yet, I'm sending Alfred on his tour instead.” Lovino looked up from his clipboard at Tino, slumped forward, face down on his desk. “Hey! Don’t die and leave me in charge of this sinking ship! When those bastards go down I'm not going down with them!” he got no response, and he really considered calling an ambulance.

“Big brother, don’t talk to him before he’s had his coffee!” Feliciano gasped, bursting in with a bowl-sized blue mug pouring steam into the air and reeking of black coffee. “You know we’re not supposed to bother him before nine!” he patted Tino gently on the shoulder and slid the mug into his hands. “There, there boss, he didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Oh shut up you moron,” Lovino scowled as he watched Tino pick his head up, face pale, eyes glazed. “Yikes, boss.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled to his assistant, gulping down his coffee before he dropped his head back down on the desk.

“So what am I doing about Feliks? He didn’t show up. He won't pick up his phone either.” He paused. “Boss?”

Tino sprang up so suddenly that Feliciano hit the ground, arms over his head, and Lovino dropped all his papers. “I'm sure he’s just stuck in traffic,” he laughed, voice bouncing lyrically through the air. “Let’s give him five more minutes.”

“Whoa man, that was fucked up! You might be diabetic!”

“Lovino you worry too much,” he grinned. “Feli, here’s fifty dollars, go buy everyone breakfast, okay?”

“Thanks boss man! I won't let you down.”

“Let’s go see if Feliks is here yet!” Tino laughed, following Feliciano down stairs.

“I'm serious, you should see a doctor, man!” Lovino called after him, scrambling to collect his papers. “If you die or go into a diabetic coma, who does that leave us with huh? You're two assistant managers. One’s a pussy and the others freaking insane. I mean it; I think he’ll literally kill us all. Are you listening Tino? You're a good guy but you're a bad judge of character damn it!”

In the lobby a couple wandering tourists were browsing knick-knacks while Gilbert tried to convince them to rent one of their “totally awesome” jet skis.

“Alfred, it looks like you’ll be taking Feliks’ tour,” he said, looking around for the flouncing head of blonde hair and finding nothing.

“I called him three times, I don’t know why he won't pick up,” Bella scowled.

“I'm kind of worried about him,” Torris muttered.

“Oh he’s polish, he probably couldn’t figure out how to cross the street,” Ivan smiled. Torris looked annoyed, but in the end couldn’t bring himself to say anything back.

“I’m going to go check on the stray cat. You guys stay here and follow Lovino’s assignment schedule. Okay?”

“Yes Boss!” everyone responded in unison. It was actually really creepy, and by the horrified looks on all their faces, it hadn’t been planned.

“I hate all of you,” Lovino scowled.

“Seriously dudes, I think we need to spend less time together,” Alfred laughed.

But Tino didn’t hear what followed, because he had already slipped into the back storage room. Sadik was glaring at him from the window of a big metal door, white mask gray with dust.

“Don’t look so angry, at least we put you in the room with the bathroom.”

“I want to see Bella!” he barked. “If you don’t bring her in here when I get out of this miserable shop my people will shut you down so hard they’ll identify you by your dental records.” The door reverberated with a high ring as he kicked it.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll send my booking secretary in here. You know, the Hungarian girl with the spear. Or maybe you prefer the albino? Or I think my Russian assistant manager is free right now…”

At the mention of Ivan, his face drained of all color.

“I thought so. Now let’s keep Bella out of this. I’ll ask again. Why my shop?”

“Because Bella is here!”

“And you bring her up again! Why?”

“We’re meant to be together! No one understands us, but she knows it’s true. Even if Tim is against it.”

“I think Bella’s against it too you stalker,” Tino huffed. “And don’t act like it has nothing to do with the drugs your organization sells.”

“Um… what drugs?”

And Tino couldn’t take the stupid pouring out of that man anymore, so he stepped back into the store, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Gilbert! GO AWAY!” Elizabeta's yell smashed his good mood to pieces.

“Aw, come on Lizzy, I'm joking,” Gilbert giggled, trying to undo the tie on her dress.

He reached for the tie again, and her hand wrapped around the spine of the tour schedules book in front of her. Gilbert pulled his hand away without anticipating that she wasn’t aiming for his extremities.

All present male employees let out a collective shudder as Gilbert screamed and hit the ground, gripping his… eh-hem… vital regions.

“Pervert,” she muttered under her breath.

Tino was about to point out that Gilbert totally deserved that, when the little bell above their door chimed.

“Tino…” Matthias gulped, standing in the doorway, “you better get out here.”

“What happened?” Matthias not in a good mood? Something bad had happened.

“It’s about one of your employees. Eh-hem, the Polish boy.”

Tino’s heart dropped, and he forced himself to recall Feliks complaining about someone heckling him on his tours. “Oh god…” Matt didn’t have time to continue, because before he could fully open his mouth, Tino was out the door, and Elizabeta and Torris were right behind him.

“This better be good,” Lovino muttered, stalking past Matthias, Bella on his heels.

“Um… are you two going to go?” Matthias wondered, eyeing Gilbert and Ivan.

“No, I hate Feliks,” Ivan smiled.

“The awesome me is just gonna lay here… because I'm too awesome for the situation,” Gilbert grumbled.

“Okay man, keep telling yourself that.”

Outside, Feliks was sitting on the front step of Arthur’s Occult and Punk Apparel, head down as Arthur, with a hand on his shoulder, held a bloody rag to his face. “It’s alright lad, your boss is here. You’ll be okay.” He let out a loud sniffle.

“What happened?” Torris gasped, and Feliks let out another heart-wrenching sob. Tino was just… speechless. He was speechless. And that was a rare thing.

“Seems some delinquents attacked him while he was walking here. I heard them screaming from my inventory room. They ran when the Dane and I jumped in. I think he may need stitches. We’ve called an ambulance.”

“Did I mention that I also cater funerals?” Francis announced, shoving his cart in front of Tino. “I also have a sale on lilies!”

“Frog! Get out of here you wanker, this is the wrong situation!” Arthur bellowed, and the Frenchman dragged his cart away, grumbling.

Torris sat down on Feliks’ other side, trying to get a look at his face, hidden by his blood-streaked hair. “Let me see.”

“No, go away!”

“Feliks, lift your head.”

“No… like, I'd don’t want you to see it Torris, it’s not pretty.” His voice cracked.

“Serves you right, Fag!” all heads turned to a teenager standing across the street, hair gelled up, sunglasses hiding his face. He flipped them off and turned and ran like the little coward he was.

“Hey! Get back here!” Elizabeta yelled, bolting after him.

Tino let out a breath. “Come on Feliks, let us see. I have to call your parents, and I want to tell them as much as I can.”

Slowly, he lifted his head. There was blood running down his cheeks from a wide gash across his forehead, and one of his eyes was starting to swell shut. But all that was almost invisible compared to his nose. It was bent just a little too far to one side, and the blood was gushing out, staining his pink sequined blouse. He was barely cross-dressing today – why even bother attacking him?

“Looks like you broke your nose. I don’t think there will be any permanent damage. Did you see who it was?”

“Yeah, it was like, the goddamn censorship society. Who else?” he sobbed. “I hate them! I hope they burn in hell!”

Arthur patted his shoulder. “Calm down lad, getting worked up won't do anyone any good.”

“Boss, I’ll stay here and wait for the police with him. I’ll also go to the hospital if that’s okay,” Torris offered.

“Yeah, sure, go.” He had other things to worry about. Like what happened to Elizabeta? And was Gilbert still rolling around on the floor? He glanced over his shoulder at Lovino and Bella. “We better get back to the shop.”

“What about that idiot, Lizzy,” Lovino scowled.

“She’ll be okay, I guess,” Tino replied, though somewhere in the back of his mind, he wasn’t so sure.

“Wait!” Feliks whimpered, and Tino wanted to cry for him. “Tell Ivan that… that… it’s all his fault Russia won’t buy Poland’s apples.” _And_ the moment was ruined.

*

“Hello there! Welcome to Tino’s Tours!”

“Erm… Guten Tag, I'm here in regard to an altercation that took place outside? Involving an attack on one of these employees.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about mister, but you have the same accent as one of our tour guides,” Feliciano smiled.

“Um yes, I believe my brother works here… Gilbert?”

“Oh, Gilbert, yeah, he’s lots of fun,” Feliciano smiled, gazing up at the towering blonde man in the scary police uniform. “He’s always in the back when he’s not giving parasailing lessons because he runs…”

Tino threw himself into the conversation just in time to stop a full on police raid of their back rooms. “He runs in place. He’s a fitness nut. And I can tell it must run in the family… Officer… um…?”

“Ludwig. Just call me Ludwig. I'm here about the attack on one of your tour guides.”

“Feliks? Yeah, he claimed it was the Censorship Society, so you should go talk to them,” he replied, guarded.

“Yes, we have someone on that. Did you see or hear anything?”

“No, we had just opened, and he didn’t show up. The owner of the shop next door came and got me.”

“I see. Now, on a different note, is Gilbert here? I have an important family matter to discuss with him.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll go get him,” Tino smiled, casting a look at Feliciano when he turned around that permanently extinguished any dreams he had of tell Ludwig any work-related secrets before he escaped into the back rooms.

“So you're a police man? I'm not surprised, you look sooo scary!” he had meant it as a joke, but when Ludwig’s face flushed red he had a feeling that it was taken the wrong way. “are all you Germans so tall?” this was definitely making it worse.

“Perhaps you Italians are just too short.”

“Ve, a lot of us are! My big brother hates being called short but then again he hates most things.”

“I know what you mean, my brother only loves himself.”

“Yeah, Gil’s kind of a dick.”

“Don’t listen to him Ludwig, he’s LYING! Of course your big bro is awesome.” They both winced as Gilbert came crashing into the room, Tino keeping a safe distance behind him. “What brings you here little brother?

“I have something important to talk to you about. Can we go into the store’s back room?”

“No!” Tino gasped, and then caught himself, “it’s much too dusty and cluttered back there. Why don’t you step outside?”

“Um, okay…”

“Yeah let’s go Luddy,” Gilbert grinned, pulling his brother out the door.

“That was bad Feli…” Tino gasped, dropping his head down on the front counter. “We need to be more alert.”

“That cop was so nice! Kinda stiff though…”

“No, Feli, you can't get involved with him,” Tino sighed. “We could all end up in prison.”

“Don’t be so stressed boss. Aren’t you going on a date tonight?”

“Yeah, and we still haven’t decided where yet.”

“You should get pasta! I know that makes me feel better when I'm down.”

“Actually that not a half bad…”

The door chimed as Gilbert returned alone, face paler than usual, eyes glazed. “I'm gonna do inventory,” he mumbled, walking to the back.

“Hey, Ludwig's not coming back inside?” Feliciano pouted. Tino loved the guy like his own brother, but he was just so thickheaded. “I'm gonna talk to him.”

“Feli! No!” Tino gasped, but it was already too late.

*

“And then he ran off, and I haven’t seen him since!” Tino sipped his wine and looked over the breadbasket at Berwald. “Elizabeta came back eventually, covered in feathers actually.”

“Why f'thers?” Berwald wondered. More like grumbled under his breath.

“I have no idea. I didn’t ask. But the hospital said Feliks will be okay, so that’s good.”

“So why couldn’t ya l't the p'lice off'cer in the b'ckrooms.”

“Um… we keep stray animals back there, and they're always trying to get us on code violations, you know?”

“I see…” See what? Did he see through his lies? Would this make him run away? “so ya like an'mals?”

“Yeah I love them! Growing up we had lots of cats and dogs and horses and… oh I grew up on a farm.” He put down his glass and reminded himself to order water when the waiter came back.

“Then m'ybe you can h'lp me out,” he mumbled, which was actually the longest sentence he’d said all night, “s'meone d'mped a puppy on my doorst'p, and I can't f'nd anyone to t'ke it.”

“Oh…” Tino loved animals, that was true, but he loved them the same way he loved kids – they were nice to have around in theory, but he much preferred when they belonged to someone else. “Yeah, I’ll take a look at him.” Stupid wine, making him say things he didn’t mean.

“Her. She’s friendly with other animals, even cat. She shouldn’t be a pr'blem to keep in your st're.”

“Yeah! We only have some cats back there.” He was digging his own grave…

“Hey!” someone yelled from the table next to theirs. “What part of _al dente_ don’t you understand damn it!” and Tino cringed.

“Lovino?” he gasped, looking on horrified as his assistant verbally abused a poor defenseless waiter.

“You kn'w him?” Berwald wondered, face unchanging.

“Uh… yeah, he’s my assistant… he’s not usually this… he’s really competent at his job.”

“Hey, boss!” he waved. “Guess it’s an off night for this joint, eh?”

“What are you doing here… on the night I had a date… by yourself?” Tino was trying not to sound too passive aggressive.

“I'm here to keep an eye on my idiot little brother,” he scowled. “That moron’s having dinner with that police bastard who came in earlier today.”

For a moment, Tino felt his world ending. “What?”

“Yeah, like he doesn’t know the drug trade has their hands so far up the police’s ass, they could play them like Muppets.” Tino couldn’t even look at him with a straight face, so instead he scanned the restaurant for Feliciano, finding him in the back corner of the room, waving his hands all around as Ludwig sat across the table with a stern face.

“I've n'ver heard th't.” Even Berwald sounded surprised.

“It’s Gilbert’s younger brother,” he gulped, painting a smile across his face. “He wouldn’t do anything.”

“Boss, he’s Gilbert’s younger brother. That’s why I'm worried.”

“Lovino, just relax…” if Tino hadn’t had a few cups of whine in him, and if he hadn’t had enough faith in humanity to believe that Lovino wouldn’t do something so incredibly stupid, he might have grabbed his assistant before he stood up and b-lined for Feliciano’s table.

“Tino, I th'nk we should go,” Berwald grumbled, waving the waiter over.

“Why, we can just ignore him…”

His smile was frozen on his face as he turned around to see a second plate of pasta, pulled off some poor patron’s table, go sailing through the air before hitting the wall above Feli’s head. Ludwig had strings of spaghetti curling through his hair and behind his ears, and tomato sauce dribbled down his cheeks like tears.

“Stay away from my brother you bastard!” he bellowed.

“Is he dr'nk?” Berwald wondered.

Tino glanced at his table. There wasn’t even a glass of water. “no… no he’s not.”

“I know what your intentions are!” Lovino yelled.

And Tino refilled his wine glass.

“Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to leave,” the host growled, grabbing Lovino’s arm.

“Eh, you make half assed Italian food, and I'm the one in trouble here?

“Sir, you're terrorizing our guests.”

“That man’s terrorizing my brother!”

“Lovino, what’s wrong with you?” Feliciano yelled, standing up, “I should come over there and…”

“Relax Feliciano, the restaurant will handle it,” Ludwig sighed.

He hesitated, then smiled and sat down as Lovino was dragged out kicking and screaming. “I guess you’re right, and hey, maybe they’ll give us our food for free. Grandpa always says, never turn down a free meal.”

Tino had his head down on the table, massaging his temples. “that’s your ass'st'nt?” Berwald grunted. Tino really hoped that glare wasn’t for him.

“He’s really good at his job…” he downed his wine and poured himself more.

“They’ll just let anyone in these restaurants now,” a Russian girl at a nearby table huffed.

“Well what do you expect, Natalia, the world is going to hell,” the Japanese man across from her huffed.

“At least that cross-dressing Pole shouldn’t be trouble anymore. Don’t you think Kiku?”

“I agree. I honestly wonder how such shameful people are allowed to walk the streets.”

Tino felt it bubbling up from his chest – a mix of anger and wine that threatened to take the same route as Lovino. Even from here, he could see their big stupid Censorship Society buttons.

“Tino, are ya ok'y?”

 _Don’t mess this up again, Tino, you probably won't get another chance_. “Huh? Yeah Ber, I just thought I heard something about my business. I've really got to talk to Lovino tomorrow.”

And he really needed to do something about the censorship society.

*

“Then we had a r'lly del'c'ous d'nner.”

“But how’d we end up in bed together?” Tino wondered, picking at his bacon.

“You w'nted to see my dog. We end'd up taking sh'ts.”

He was sitting a little too close, leering at him, though Tino had begun to accept that it was just resting bitch face. “I think I just lose my cool when I'm around you.”

“Me too,”

“Seriously? Are you just making fun of me?”

“N'pe.” Then some really awkward silence.

“Oh… okay.”

“So would ya l'ke to see the dog?”

“Oh, right… because I take in stray animals.” That’s right, that hole he’d dug himself into.

Berwald whistled and something that looked more like a giant animated cotton ball came prancing into the room, and Tino totally lost his cool.

“Oh my god! How cute!” he scooped the little ball of fur up into his arms and the licked his face, panting happily. “What’s her name?

“Hana.”

“Eek how adorable!”

“Gl'd I found her a g'd h'me.

Wait… what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! It took me forever to write this, and I'm not fond of this chapter, but we'll see where it takes me. I expect the next few chapters to be a lot better.


	5. No, Trust Me, the Counter Isn't Clean Yet

“So do you like him or not?” Matthias was grinning from ear to ear, eyes full of electric energy as he leaned on Tino’s desk, hand buried in a bag of kettle corn. Something in his smile said _please say yes, please say yes, please say yes_.

“Um…” Tino began, pretending to scrub the counter clean for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. “Do you know how to get coffee stains out of hardwood?”

“I don’t see a stain. You didn’t answer my question. You like Ber, right?”

“Matthias, this isn't middle school. Stop trying to get involved.”

“But I _need_ to know! PLEEEAAAAAASSSSSSSEEEEEEEEEE.”

Tino decided he’d scrub the counter one last time. _He’s just energetic_ , he told himself as Matthias took a deep breath to prepare for another drawn out plead for information.

“No, not again!” Lovino growled, slamming his clipboard down on the table. “You want to be stupid, do it somewhere else. We’re running a business here.”

“But…”

“You really want to know?” he snapped, and Tino started searching for something heavy to hit him with, finding only the nailed down cash register before giving up  and settling for putting his face down on the counter. Maybe if he couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see him. “He hasn’t had a date in like, a year, so he’s desperate,” Lovino went on, “so even though he doesn’t like that big scary guy you brought around here, he’s not willing to give up on it yet. You know, because he’s desperate.”

“That’s not true!” Tino chimed in. “just because you're majoring in psychology doesn’t make you fit to analyze me!”

“Yes it does boss.” And then he shuffled away to hand off everyone’s schedules.

“But you adopted his dog,” Matthias snorted, crouching down to pet Hana, curled into a little white ball of fur by his feet.

“It had nowhere to go. I couldn’t just abandon it.”

“Why don’t you like him? You two are the two most un-datable people I know!”

“Hey, how am I un-dateable?”

“Well…” there was a moment of _really_ uncomfortable silence before the little bell over the door chimed and sunlight fluttered in, unbroken on the shoulders of a dark haired young man in a tiny hat.

“Hello? Tino? It’s Vlad from across the street.”

The smile fell from Matthias’ features so suddenly _Tino_ felt winded. “hi Vlad, what’s up?” it was hard to look past the little top hat as he bounced into Tino’s store, over-large canines in an over-large smile that over powered his blood red dress shirt and neon blue pants.

“I'm running a new show starting this weekend, and I was wondering if you’d promote it for me? I'd pay an advertising fee of course.”

“Oh no problem! I’ll write it on the event board. Just fax me the ads, or email them because no one uses fax any more, and I’ll have them up in a couple hours. You know, an old friend of mine down the street just inherited a theater?”

“The Old Norwegian Theater, right? They always say a little competition is good for business. I can't wait to see what shows they put on!”

“Well that’s great,” Matthias snarled, snatching the paper he had attempted to hand to Tino. “We’ll keep you posted.”

“You work for the theater?” Vlad wondered, and the grin returned to his face.

“Nope. No. I own a candy shop. You should get back before your actors break a nail or something.”

Tino was about to totally kick Matthias out for insulting his clients when Elizabeta burst from the back with the spear from the suit of armor raised above her head, eyes wide with absolute rage.

“NOBODY MOVE.” Oh no.

For a split second, he really thought she had let their… stray cat… escape, until she pointed the spear at Vlad and said, “I lost an earring and nobody’s leaving until we find it!”

Tino gripped his chest and started counting backwards from ten. Vlad was on the ground with his arms over his head, praying in Romanian.

“Jesus fucking Christ Eliza!” Lovino screamed from his hiding spot behind Bella.

“What did it look like?” Matthias wondered, moving aside the chair to his left.

“It was green and dangly,” she pouted, dropping her arms to her sides and pushing out her lower lip.

“Um, boss, I'm going to drop off these flyers at the post office,” Bella gulped, reaching for the stack of colorful pamphlets on her desk.

“Oh I have a package I have to pick up! I’ll go with you!” Vlad grinned, sunny disposition returning in full force.

Matthias stiffened, gripping the side of Tino’s desk as Bella slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder and followed Vlad out. “Bye Tino, nice to meet you Matthias!” he called back, flashing those fangs.

“Pick up a box of coffee on your way back!” Lovino called after them.

“What about my earring?” Elizabeta scowled, crouching down to search the area carpets.

“Tino!” Matthias gasped, grabbing his arm.

“Why are you acting weird?” He paused then pulled his arm away. “Weirder than usual.”

“Remember how I told you Lukas and I were chased through the woods the other day?”

“You mean that crazy story you dreamt up?” Lovino snorted before Tino could say anything.

“It was real!”

“Okay, Matthias, what about it?” Tino sighed.

“Well, when we were running from the crazy censorship society dude, we hid in this little shack where these really suspicious guys were talking about their drug dealing trade and…”

“Yeah Matt, I still don’t really believe you,” Tino laughed. “it’s a really funny story though and you should defiantly tell it at parties.”

“They mentioned Vlad. They said he was the chemist working in the drug trade.”

“Right,” Eliza snorted as she peered under Tino’s desk.

“Dude, you just let your secretary leave with a guy working for the cartel. Even if I'm wrong, don’t you think it’s risky to let her go?”

Unfortunately, that made a sickening amount of sense.

And he could see it in Lovino’s face and in the way Eliza tensed up that they thought the same. “I'm not saying that your right, I just forgot that I have to pick something up from the post office too, so I’ll be back in a little while. Lovino, you're in change, don’t let Matthias break anything, and when Ivan comes in, I need him to do inventory. Good luck finding your earring Eliza.” And he was out the door before anyone could make a stupid comment.

*-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

“See, sometimes I'm smart!” Matthias pouted, crouching down and searching the floor for the earring.

“That didn’t sound half as intelligent as you wanted it too,” Lovino sighed, taking up the rag and wood cleaner and scrubbing the clean counter where Tino left off. “Eliza, what are you doing?”

The answer came in a high muffle from behind the bookcase across the room.

“Thought so.”

He turned to the door as bell chimed again, cringing as Ivan’s towering form blocked out the sunlight. “Oh, it’s just you.”

“Yup, just me. Hello Mr. Matthias.”

“Hey… dude,” he grinned.

“Another man from the censorship society was handing out fliers on my tour,” he smiled, fixing his Tino’s Tours T-shirt.

“You didn’t dangle him outside the trolley by his feet again did you? Because the Health Department said…”

“No, no, I just took them away.” He dropped a stack of black and white pamphlets in front of Lovino, showing little concern when they spilled all over the place.

Lovino plucked one up turning it over a few times before he started reading. “Look what these whack jobs are advertising. _Does your son or daughter not fit in with the norm? Well send them to our specialized summer camps to help them fit in better with their peers_. I should send Feli. Three days and he’d have them repenting and begging us to take him back.”

“They hung up fliers on my door about excess sugar,” Matthias snorted, standing up and reading over one of the pamphlets.

“Well you did give Tino diabetes,” Lovino shrugged.

“Mr. Matthias,” Ivan began before he could argue. “I think you and Tino should collaborate on how to remove these pests. I'm sure Yao next door would also agree.”

“And I think you should get on with Inventory before Tino comes back,” Lovino spat.

“You are not my boss but I don’t want to disappoint Tino, so I will see you all later.” And thank god, he slipped into the back rooms.

“He’s creepy,” Matthias gulped, then a moment later, “but having the neighborhood brainstorm what to do about the Censorship society is a really good idea. I’ll get Eduard to send out an email.”

“Oh don’t listen to him. I heard his sister is a part of that crazy club,” Eliza scowled as she squeezed out from behind the bookcase.

“Okay, so you all have to meet me Friday, in the back room of my shop. Oh, or we can meet in the back rooms here since Gilbert has that bar…”

“NO!” they yelled in unison.

“Your shop is so much nicer,” Eliza smiled.

“Good point. So Friday, one AM, after we all close up.” He scrunched his nose like he was trying so freak’n hard to think about it. “I’ll see you guys later, I have to plan this out.”

“Okay, bye,” Lovino waved, the bell chiming after him as he pushed open the glass door, then looked at Eliza. “The sister with the big knockers?”

“No, the little one. I'm going to check Tino’s office for my earring.”

“Don’t touch anything,” he called after her as she bounced up the stairs.

And then he was alone in glorious silence. No more idiot bastards to distract him from his work. No more stupid, made up problems, just silence and…

The bell chimed.

“Welcome to Tino’s Tours, my name is Lovino, can I interest you in…” he looked up. There was a Spanish man in a long black coat in the dead of summer standing there, smiling. Something wasn’t right. Why did he have a stack of pamphlets under his arm?

And why did they match the ones on the counter?

“Oh man, I thought you were a myth…”

The Spanish man kept staring.

“Hey, jerk, your buddies beat up one of my co-workers. Why don’t you tell them to come around here so I can shove my foot up their… hey, are you listening? Goddamn it, stop looking at me like that. Seriously. What the hell is your problem you creep?”

The man jumped. “Huh? Oh, I'm sorry. You kind of remind me of a tomato.”

“Get the fuck out of my store.”

“No not in a bad way! Um… Lovino’s a really nice name… do you own this place?”

“I'm the owner’s personal assistant, which basically makes me god, so get the hell out.”

“You have a really dirty mouth.”

“Oh I’ll show you a dirty mouth you freak…”

The man pulled off his jacket and sat down in the spare chair, smiling and gazing at Lovino in such an uncomfortable way he had to hold himself back from jumping the counter and beating him up. “That settles it. I’ll just have to get a job here so I can keep an eye on you.”

“I’m calling the police.”

 “Okay, tell them Antonio says hi.”

*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

“Hi, was there a girl with short hair in here just now with a man with a little hat?”

“Yes, I believe so. She left a minute ago and turned towards East street,” the girl behind the counter smiled.

“Thank you so much!” Tino huffed, wiping the sweat off his brow. She was okay. The Cartel wasn’t trying to get back at them over Sadik.

He bolted out the door, almost falling over as he turned the corner and crashed into a flower cart. “Oi! Tino! You look panicked. Some daisies might calm you down. It’s on sale.”

“No Francis, I'm good, thanks though!” Tino gasped, slipping around him and his flailing carnations and lilies. He had to find Bella. He had to make sure Vlad hadn’t kidnapped her or tried to murder her or…

Or forced her to admit where Sadik was.

But the street was empty, and he had no way of knowing what coffee shop she’d run to for Lovino. But she was okay… she was definitely okay…

“Hey Tino.” Even though it was grunted, and the voice was definitely way too low to belong to a teenage girl, Tino hadn’t given up hope.

He turned around, really praying that Bella would be standing there, and nearly collided with the brick wall named Berwald. “Oh god! You really snuck up on me!” he gasped, backing up a few steps.

“S’rry.”

“No, it’s cool… so what brings you to the post office? I mean, other than mail of course. Ha, I guess that’s the only reason you’d be here… and… um…”

“I was j'st go'n for a w'lk. Are ye heading b'ck to Main Street?”

“Yeah. I gotta make sure my staff don’t kill each other. And I think I left Matthias in there too.”

“He once set my off'ce on f're.”

“Wait really?” that was so Matthias.

“Yup.” Tino waited for more, but there was just silence as they started walking.

“So, what happened?”

“I was s'pposed to b'bysit my n'phew, Lars, and his fr'nd, Peter, so my sist'r could go away for the week'nd.”

“Peter and Lars, the two kids who always run around Arthur’s shop?” Tino gasped.

“Peter’s Arthur’s y'nger br'ther.”

“No way, small world huh? This one time they got into Arthur’s special merchandise and… well that’s a different story. Anyway, you were saying?” They turned the corner onto Main Street, passing by Lukas’ theater as the cobblestone grew uneven and the chatter of tourists flooded over them. A sign had been hastily hung up next to the door, slouching to one side, revealing deep cracks in the stone face, advertising for a screen writer’s contest.

“It was l'st m'nute. I had to c'ncel plans w'th Lukas and M'tthias. M'tthias didn’t t'ke it well. Thought I was lying. So he sh'wed up at my w'rk ju'st as I was f'nishing up for the day. Lars and Peter w're in the l'bby on their ph'nes and M'tthias…”

“Gave his ‘kids today’ speech?” Tino winced.

Berwald grunted. “Tried to teach ‘em how to l'ght matches. He set the c'rpet on f're then tr'pped trying to put it out. Kn'cked himself out on a chair. Al'rm didn’t ev'n go off and I didn’t know 'til Peter came in to get a glass of w'ter for the f'fth time.”

“Oh my gosh! The building wasn’t damaged right?”

“Not too b'dly. M'tthias had to pay for it.”

“Well that’s all the matters,” Tino laughed.

“A'tually, that t'me they were s'pposed to intr'duce me to you.”

“Oh yeah! And it took forever to work out a schedule that worked for all of us,” Tino hummed.

“Yeah, I'm s'rry about th't.”

“No! It was for your family.”

Berwald stopped for a moment, ears turning pink, and fumbled with his hands. “Still r'ther sp'nd an aft'rnoon w'th you.”

“Pfft, don’t be ridiculous, I'm a total spaz. I'm so embarrassing to be around.”

“Don’t th'nk so. You alw'ys l'ght up the room and you're st'ries are really ent'rtain'n.”

For a minute, Tino felt his heart speed up so fast he thought it might stop from exhaustion. Had it really been that long since someone had flirted with him? Apparently so. But Berwald didn’t think he was a spaz. So that meant he wasn’t just as desperate as Tino, right? Right? And he was cute. He had a nice jawbone. And pretty eyes. Tino definitely had a thing for blue eyes and blonde hair. And those muscles were so hot.

Even if he was scary. So scary.

It happened so quickly that Tino hadn’t realized what he’d done until it was too late. He stood on his tiptoes, nearly tripping on a loose piece of stone, and closed the space between them. It was just a peck on the lips. A light little kiss. But it was their first. Berwald flinched and when Tino realized what had happened he stepped back, eyes wide, face red.

“I am so…”

“It’s f'ne…”

“I just got caught up in the…”

“S'me.”

And the walk back to the shop was silent.

*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

“I don’t understand how your shop is next door and it still takes an hour for our food to get here!” Lovino huffed as he counted the crumped bills out of his wallet.

“I dunno. Maybe you should, like, try walking,” Leon, the delivery boy, grumbled.

“I offered to go get it amigo!” Antonio smiled.

“You just stay in that chair over there and don’t come near me,” Lovino scowled.

It was getting late and Tino wasn’t back yet, and Bella was still gone, and Alfred was late for his shift, and Elizabeta hadn’t found her goddamn earring, so she was lost somewhere in the building and no one had seen her in hours and…

Something in the back hit the wall loud enough to make them all jump, rattling the stack of souvenir town maps and making the bubbleheads of B-list actors on the shelf above nod with dead-eyed approval. And Ivan was having way too much fun doing inventory. He checked his schedule, wincing when he saw that Gilbert and Torris had off. And Felix wasn’t exactly in the right condition to work again at the moment. And for a weekday evening, they had twice the people they'd normally have on the tour.

Great. Tourist season was starting.

So he did the only thing he could do in this situation, and started cleaning the counter top. He glanced up at Leon, feeling a headache breaking over his brain. “Why are you still here?”

“Because I don’t want to go back to work, and like, there’s two people getting in on in the car parked outside.” Seriously?

“Before marriage?” Antonio gasped. Where were the police? He called them forty minutes ago.

Muttering all of his favorite four letter words under his breath, Lovino through down the rag and grabbed the shotgun Tino had started storing under the counter ever since Sadik held them all at gunpoint and stormed out to the red pickup truck with the American flag on the back. “Hey! You can't park here bastard!” he yelled, kicking the door.

“Dude! Don’t dent my ride,” Alfred yelled, leaning away from Bella as he threw the door open. Lovino screamed in the most manly way possible, arms over his head.

“Oh, dude… I'm late. My bad,” the stupid teenager grinned.

“Were under staffed and you’ve been making out with the secretary who we’ve been worried sick about?” he snarled. “I should tell her brothers.”

“Okay man, chill.” He helped her out of the car, and they both scurried, faces bright red, back into Tino’s Tours as Leon decided it was safe to return to _Yao Mien’s Chinese Bistro_.

“Lovino, what are you doing?” Tino was smiling as he said it, with a look in his eyes that summed up everything Lovino hated about people who were in love. It was that stupid glazed over smile that he just wanted to slap out of them.

“Bella and Alfred were making out in his truck when they should have been working.” And his headache was getting way worse.

“Aw, that’s nice.”

“Are you okay boss?” he snorted, following Tino as he drifted into the store and started cleaning the counter again.

“Huh? Yeah, I'm great,” he smiled, tracing hearts into the countertop with the rag. “Who’s your friend over there?”

“He’s not my friend.”

“I'm Antonio. I work here now!” he smiled.

“Oh, Lovino, I didn’t know we were hiring,” Tino grinned.

Lovino dropped his head down on the countertop. “We’re not. He doesn’t work here.”

“Oh, then I’ll get him an application.”

“My long term goal is to help Lovino stop cursing and be a happier person,” Antonio announced.

“I am happy!” Lovino growled. “And don’t bother, I already called the cops.” He pointed to the window where a police patrol car pulled up behind Alfred’s truck. “Oh goddamn it…” he cringed as that brother-corrupting bastard Ludwig neared the glass door.

*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

“I r'lly l'ke you.”

Tino was too shocked to dodge the old iron lamppost, and the sound of his skull hitting metal made all the tourists turn and stare. Great, that was all he needed: some kid pointing at him during a tour and announcing that he was the guy who walked face first into a lamppost. And they had been so close to the shop. Just a block away.

“S’rry! D'dn’t mean to freak ya' out,” Berwald grunted, pulling him out of the way of on-coming people. “Are ya' okay?”

“You didn’t freak me out, I was just surprised,” Tino gasped, holding his hand to his nose. “did it leave a mark?” he opened his eyes and tried not to scream at the site of Berwald two inches from his nose, glowering with such intensity it could make a professional wrestler cower in fear.

“H'ld still,” he grunted, putting one of those meat hook hands on his cheek. “J'st a l'ttle bump.” Then there was just silence. For what seemed like forever, and Tino couldn’t tear his eyes away as much as Berwald couldn’t take his hand off his cheek.

“Um…” Tino hummed, just about to step away, when Berwald leaned in and kissed him. Not just a peck, a real kiss that he couldn’t pull himself away from.

Finally, Berwald stepped back. “Um… you w'nt to see a m'vie t'morrow n'ght?”

Tino hesitated. “Yeah, I think I'd like that.”

And for the first time, he really wasn’t afraid of Berwald anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, life's been hectic with school. This chapter's mostly filler, but the next chapter (which I'll get out a lot sooner) should pick up the plot a little. But anyway, enjoy! Don't forget to comment and tell me what you think!


	6. You've Probably Never Heard Of Them

“Like, I am so sick of these bandages. I can't even take a shower. I have to, like put plastic on the casts. And don’t get me started on the stitches. It totally sucks.”

Torris almost dropped his towel on his way out of his bathroom. “Feliks, why are you in my house?”

“I stayed after school because like, my mom’s gone totally bat shit since I got beat up, and I didn’t realize how dark it had gotten, so like, I just walked here because it was closer. I already told my mom I was staying the night, so like, don’t worry.”

“But…”

“You’re roommates don’t mind, right?”

“Um… no…”

“Awesomeness. I ordered pizza. Can I like, borrow ten bucks?”

It would have been futile to argue. It always was. Not that Torris was complaining. Even if Feliks took over his room. And annoyed his roommates. And never paid him back for all the food he ordered.

But if ten dollars was the price of keeping him from getting into trouble, then he’d pay it.

They didn’t want a repeat of last Earth Day, after all. “Hang on, let me get dressed. It’s in my jeans I think.” He found his sweatpants strewn over a chair and froze, contemplating telling Feliks to get out, or leaving his own room to change in the bathroom. “I’ll be right back,” he sighed, slinking back toward the bathroom door.

“And here I thought I'd get dinner and a show,” he giggled, from where he was sprawled out on Torris’ bed.

“Keep it down. My roommates are in the next room.”

“I know, they let me in,” he called back. “One of them was totally flirting with me until he realized I was a guy. It was Earth Day all over again!” He whistled as Torris strode out, searching for a shirt. “I told you getting that university gym membership was a good idea.”

“Did he offer you money?” Torris sighed, holding back his temper.

“Nope. He totally should have though. Even with my horribly disfigured face, I'm like, so totally hot.”

“If you didn’t get in his car and pretend to be a hooker, then it was nothing like Earth Day.”

“You totally didn’t get the point. Are you working tomorrow?”

“Yeah. You should stay home and recover more.”

“No, I'm like, broke. I need the money so my stylist can like, find a way to hide these stitches. I'm thinking about bangs.”

“Don’t get bangs.”

“I’ll think of something. Oh, I like, used you're computer to pirate a couple movies for us to watch.”

“We have work in the morning.”

“And? You know, we should pull a prank on Ivan.”

Torris didn’t have time to argue before the doorbell started ringing in rapid succession. He grabbed his wallet, leaving Feliks to his rambling ideas of pure insanity. Ivan would murder them both. And he'd do it with a smile on his face.

The pizza had all the toppings on it. Gotta keep it interesting, Feliks would say. He actually ordered Torris’ favorite, Ginger Ale, this time instead of toxic blue Mountain Dew. He wasn’t quite sure that meant he was thinking of other people but he'd take it as a step in the right direction.

When he got back, Feliks had cleared a space on the bed next to him. “Not you,” he grinned as Torris went to sit down, pulling the box from his hands and plopping it down on his freshly washed sheets. “I picked The Shining, so like, don’t get too scared.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The day had gone by without incident.

There were no complaints, there were no fights there were no…

“Eep!”

Tino was too wrapped up in the box of liquor filled chocolates he’d found mysteriously placed on his desk to flinch. “Hey Feliciano, what’s up?” he mumbled, trying to decide between the vodka filled chocolate and the whisky filled chocolate.

“Boss, your hippie doorway thing is attacking me!” he gasped.

Tino tore himself away from his oh-so important decision to see Feli tangled in his beaded doorway in a way he didn’t think possible. The red beads were wrapped around his throat while the blue and green beads held his arms and the purple beads pulled his hair.

“What do you think? Vodka, or whisky?”

“Oh I'm not really a fan of hard liquor, I prefer wine,” he smiled. Then after a moment. “Elizabeta and Gilbert are fighting.”

“Did Alfred break it up?”

“Ve, he made it worse.”

“Okay, let’s go see what they're up to,” Tino smiled, taking the chocolates with him as he stood. He yanked Feliciano free of his doorway and pranced down the stairs, humming to himself as chants of _DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE_ echoed past him from the ground floor.

It was one of those rare moment when everybody was in the shop and interacting.

Elizabeta had her knee in Gilbert’s chest and her hands around his throat, banging his head into the hardwood floor over and over, screaming threats as he cackled like a madman, fingers trying to pry away her death-grip. Alfred was lying near Elizabeta’s desk, out cold as Bella gripped his hand and fanned him with some unsigned release forms.

Lovino let out a sigh, audible over all the screaming, from where he sat at Tino’s desk, eyes on a magazine, then cast a glare at Ivan, shuddering when the Russian giant grinned back at him.

“Yeah! GET HIM ELIZA! TAKE HIM DOWN BITCH!” Tino hadn’t seen Feliks past the chaos, but now he couldn’t look away. He was standing in the doorway with Torris. His right foot was in a cast, his left arm was in a sling, he had stitches over one eye and his nose had tape over it.

But it wasn’t quite as noticeable as that psychotic smile.

“GO FOR THE EYES!”

“Feliks, take it easy,” Torris gasped, grabbing his good arm as he dropped his crutch and started falling over.

“Eh-hem.” Tino didn’t have to be loud. The anger in his voice was enough to end the altercation.

Elizabeta let Gilbert’s head hit the floor with a _thunk_ before she climbed off and smoothed out her shirt. “He started it.”

“And I ended it,” Tino smiled, finally deciding on the whisky chocolate. “Whoever left me these chocolates, you have great taste.”

There was a moment of quiet, where they all just watched him eat. It was still early, and only a few elderly locals were out, buying groceries and chatting happily with the vendors over the chirping of birds.

“Like, can I have one?” Feliks wondered.

“No. all of you, get to work. Torris, you’ll be taking Feliks’ usual tour. Feliks, you can do inventory in the back. Gil, there’s a boat show today in the harbor, so plan ahead. Feli, I need those financial statements for the last quarter by tonight. Ivan, watch the store. Lizzy, can you take two afternoon tours today? Bella and Lovino… I'm not entirely sure what you two do all day, but carry on. Oh, and someone tell Alfred to stop taking naps on the floor.”

They all saluted him in unison, then looked at each other in horror. “This is totally un-awesome guys,” Gilbert gasped. “Stop it.”

Tino popped another chocolate in his mouth. Ooh, this one was champagne flavored. “I’ll be out for a little while, Arthur wanted to talk to me.”

He shut the door behind him, flipping the sign to OPEN on his way out, sincerely hoping – praying – that this was the last incident of the day.

It was 7 AM.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was one of those days Tino just wanted to end.

It was one of those days where things just _kept_ going _wrong_.

But when he got back to his shop, things just kept getting worse.

The sun bounced off the buildings, lighting up the street like a carnival. But it just couldn’t hold up to the fire trucks and police cars. For a split second, when he saw Lovino, Elizabeta and that Antonio guy in the back of the squad car, he thought someone called the police about the… the stray cat. Then he got a better look at the situation.

Feliciano was next to Ludwig, face contorted in a rare expression of worry, Hana curled up in his arms. Well, at least someone saved the dog.

Francis was sitting on the curb, next to his overturned cart, sobbing into a floral print handkerchief. “WHY? WHY GOD WHY?”

“Torris, what’s happening?” Tino choked, tripping over the short clerk kid that worked for Matthias. He squealed and scrambled away, but it was all too much to think about, and Tino couldn’t bring himself to apologize.

Torris didn’t say anything. He just stood there with his mouth open.

“Someone started a fire in the alley between our shops,” Eduardo, standing next to Torris, gulped, glasses pushed up onto his head. “Matthias ran back in a little while ago. He’s looking for Feliks.”

And that’s when Tino decided to do a head count.

Eliza and Lovino under arrest, Gilbert leaning on the cop car with Alfred, Feliciano, Torris, Bella and… no Feliks. No Ivan either. Ivan wouldn’t go in after Feliks. Not in a million years.

Did it make Tino a bad person to hope he was taking care of their “stray cat”? Yeah… it really did. He didn’t want him to hurt the guy… just hide him where no firemen would look.

What was he saying? His store was burning down.

“Tino!” Lukas snapped him out of it. His hair was out in all directions and his eyes had huge bags beneath them, so unusual for such a clean-cut no-nonsense friend. He had a hand on each of Tino’s shoulders, gripping him just a little too tight. “Where’s Matthias?”

“Um…”

“He didn’t run back in there, right?” Tino didn’t get a chance to confirm or deny, because really, they both already knew exactly what Matthias would do in a situation like this. “That fucking idiot! He’s going to get himself killed! Doesn’t he know if he dies…?” his voice faded away beneath the soft crackle of the fire and the sharp yells of the firemen over the growing crowd. His hands fell from Tino’s shoulders and he blinked, glancing down at his shoes, face totally blank, like he’d stopped trying to understand just how serious the whole situation was becoming and resigned himself to just blocking it all out in the hopes that everything would be okay.

“Ludwig, what’s happening?” Tino snapped, forcing his way through the gathering crowd of useless gawkers.

“Someone set a fire between the two buildings. From the size, I'd say it was intentional. The owner of the establishment to my left as well as one of your employees ran back into Tino’s Tours. It doesn’t appear to be on fire but the rooms are filling with smoke. Can you think of anyone who would seek to cause you or Matthias harm?” Yes, Tino could think of a few organizations. And it’s not like Matthias wasn’t on anyone’s shit list. Hell, Berwald, Emil, and Lukas probably could have qualified as suspects, and they were his closest friends.

“Maybe it was just kids playing with matches,” he shrugged hopefully.

“Too soon to tell. But by the smell and the color of the flames, I'd say gun powder fire.”

Tino’s stomach flipped. Someone was trying to kill them.

And two of his employees were inside. And on a lesser note, Matthias was in there too, but… well… he was Matthias.

“Don’t even try to run in there after them,” Ludwig sighed. Wow that was creepy. He’d totally read his mind. “That’s why those three are in the squad car.” He glanced back at Elizabeta and Lovino.

“Alright everyone, back up!” the fire chief yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. “There are people inside and we need to search the premise!”

Tino’s heart was threatening to burst from his chest. He felt the soft brush of fabric on his arm, turning to meet Bella’s eyes as she and Alfred, walking hand in hand, stopped by his side. Gilbert cleared his throat as he elbowed his way between Ludwig and Tino, falling into a dead stillness as his eyes traced the swirling smoke to the sky. And beyond them, Torris had stopped near Feliciano, face pale with horror.

“Sargent Gupta, we’re all ready now!” one of the firemen called from the doorway to Tino’s Tours. The fire chief nodded, straightening up and strapping on his heavy rubber gas mask before he strode past his men and into the haze of smoke, leaving Tino and his staff standing there, holding their breath.

Leaving them wondering just _who_ they’d find inside.

*Earlier*

“Get ‘em Eliza!”

“Eek!”

“Watch out Feli!”

Gilbert ducked out of Eliza’s reach and behind one of the souvenir shelves, cackling as she swung wildly, hands open, smile stretched across her face. She spun, reaching for the others as they tempted fate, dancing a little too close before they scattered out of her grasp, squealing over Hana’s barking. She dashed after them, laughing, rounding on Bella and Torris before she finally got a hold on Lovino. “Tag! You're it!” and she hopped away, giggling.

Lovino lunged for Alfred, who jumped over Elizabeta’s desk to get away, before he turned and nearly ran face first into Antonio. “You can tag me amigo,” he smiled.

“Not in a million years buddy,” he grunted, turning to chase after Ivan. The hulking Russian used Torris as a human shield, holding him down by the arm and shoving him in front of Lovino, who paused for a moment, contemplating what he hated more: being _It_ , or Ivan. “Tag,” he laughed, jabbing Torris in the shoulder and bolting to the safety of the souvenir isle. A wave of laughter shook the lights on the ceiling as they ran in circles around Torris, half taunting, half testing their ability to avoid his touch like the black plague. Gilbert managed to get a few playful jabs in at the back of his head before Eliza tripped him and he went down cursing before he was christened the next _It_.

“EH-HEM!”

“Whoa, when did you get here!” Gilbert gasped. The boy with the glasses squinted at him with just enough ire to make him back up. The squeaking of sneakers and small yelps accompanied the mad dash back to their professional looking positions. “Um… people usually aren’t in here this early.”

“Okay…” he put his hands on his hips, crinkling a stack of fliers in his left arm. “Tino said I could hang these up here.”

“Oh, yeah, go ahead. Um… what’s your name?”

He fished a roll of tape from his pocket and turned to the window. “Matthew. I work for Francis’ Flowers.”

“Yeah dude, we got that from the posters you were hanging,” Alfred snorted.

“Shut up Al.”

“That’s your brother, right burger boy?” Lovino scoffed.

“No, he’s just a friend of mine, but dude, we totally look related, right?” Alfred cackled.

“Lovi, what did we say about calling people names?” Antonio gasped.

Lovino turned on his heels, the twitch in his eye teetering on a total psychotic breakdown. “I'm going to beat you over the head with a wooden chair, cut you up into little pieces and feed you to Tino’s frou-frou dog.”

“Okay, so next we have to work on those mean threats.”

“Threat?” Ivan smiled, “that wasn’t a threat. A threat would be saying that you were going to string him up by his little toe and–”

“DIE BASTARD.”

Lovino might have made good on his word if Feliciano hadn’t thrown himself between them. “Ve Fratello, it’s not worth it.”       

“Are we all just gonna ignore what that fruity little club did to Feliks?” he spat. “The kid had pieces of himself all over the pavement.”

Torris cast a nervous glance toward the back room, where Feliks was “like totally gonna see if that crazy masked dude gets mad when I poke him,” hoping he couldn’t hear them.

“The Censorship Society doesn’t commit acts of violence. We’re a peace loving organization,” Antonio huffed.

“BULL SHIT.” He jumped, taking a step away from the fuming Lovino. “Did you see him? In casts with two black eyes? Did you see the stitches? The censorship society did that.”

“But…” his voice trailed off and he just stared back at Lovino. “They wouldn’t… they couldn’t… that’s so… so…”

“Fucked up?” Gilbert offered, and Antonio nodded.

Then there was silence. Matthew was inching towards the door, unnoticed, except for Hana, who gnawing on his shoe. Finally, he kicked her off and slipped out the door as that snooty guy who owned the record store down the street stepped in.

“Ah, Elizabeta!” he grinned, and the horrible mood was shaken away.

“Rodrick!” she gasped. “How’s business?”

“Same old, same old. Does this earing belong to you?” he fished through his pocket, at last holding up the little green dangly earing they'd spent days hunting down.

“You found it!” she cheered, her face lighting up. “How did you know it was mine?”

“They’re the same green as your eyes. How could I forget?”

“Well it’s not like she hung _missing_ posters all over town with its picture or anything,” Gilbert huffed. “If it had been the awesome me, I would have never let her leave without it.”

“Yes, and I wouldn’t listen to that garbage if they were the last band on earth,” Rodrick snorted, eyeing Gilbert’s T-shirt. “I mean really, Black Flag?”

Gilbert couldn’t find the words to bite back. So he just kind of shrunk and watched Elizabeta laugh with the hipster jerk from down the street. “At least I don’t eat kale you dirty loser,” he mumbled.

“It’s too late dude,” Alfred laughed.

“Yeah?” he whispered back as Eliza and Rodrick chattered on, “I bet I can get him out of here.”

Al must've known what he was thinking, because there was a devilish grin on his face as he followed Gilbert back, past Sadik, snoring in his cell, to his bar. “Alfred, you're going to get us fired,” Bella scowled, shutting the door behind her as she followed them in. “Lovino saw us leaving. I know Rod’s a music snob, but let it go Gil.”

“Let what go?” Feliks gasped from his perch on one of the storage crates. “OMG, are we going to phase one?”

“I am letting it go!” Gilbert grinned, helping Al haul a long black crate out from under his rickety bar counter. “And yes we are kid.”

“AHHH!” he squealed, scooting across the storage crates, ignoring his broken limbs, and yanking the phone off the wall above the bar counter. “Leon. Leon! Bitch, it’s Feliks. We’re going into phase one. I know! No, I didn’t see her. Oh my god are you serious? What a…” Gilbert cleared his throat. “Like, I gotta go. Yeah, Gil’s being a total buzzkill. Yeah. Uh-huh. Okay, I’ll see you in a bit. Tell Emil I say hi.” He bit the loose nail off his thumb. “Oh, he’s there? Hi Emil! Yeah I can hear Yao yelling from here. Remember: phase one. Bye.” He hung up and glanced around, pushing himself to the edge of his crate. “I’ll go get the vacuum cleaner and the hair spray.”

“Nah dude, you stay right there,” Alfred grinned. “Probably best that we don’t accidentally hurt you anymore. Tino would lock us up back there with the hostage.”

“Yeah kid, just let us handle it,” Gilbert grinned, cracking open the black crate.

“Gil just because your jealous, doesn’t mean you can initiate phase one,” Bella scowled. “We all agreed that was only for customers who won’t leave and parades.”

“I'm not jealous! I'm just mad that Elizabeta’s happy.” He hoisted up the biggest firework in the box, cradling it like an oversized baby.

“Dude, you're not fooling anyone,” Al laughed. “And Bell, this guy is the most fucking annoying person on this block. If I like Peter Gabriel more than Phil Collins then who the hell is he to kick me out of his store.”

Bella froze, eyebrows furrowing together. “You like Gabriel over Collins?”

“Well, yeah, don’t you?”

“Gabriel was like, _so_ much better,” Feliks snorted, hands on his hips.

“What? No way in hell,” Gilbert huffed, struggling to keep his hold on the firework.

Then from the door to the front of the store came the sound of knocking. “Hello? What are you all doing back there? We are running a business, da?”

The look of horror Bella shot them could have scared the dead out of the ground, and Gilbert rushed to the boarded up window behind Feliks, forcing the oversized rocket into the alley they shared with Matthias. “I’ll get it later!” he gasped as the door slammed into the wall. Ivan crossed his arms over his chest and gave them his fakest smile.

“What are you doing?”

“Arguing about Genesis,” Feliks shrugged, then added, “Communist dickhead.”

The back door swung open. “I've got the rubber bands and the sesame seed oil!” Leon gasped, charging in. His features were frozen on his face when he spotted Ivan. “Wrong address.” And he was gone.

“You three get back out there,” Ivan grinned, but beneath the ever-present happiness, they all thought they saw his eye twitch a little. “Feliks, don’t invite your fruity little friends over here, da? And stay back here. Your face is so ugly now, it will be bad for business.”

“TAKE THAT BACK! TAKE IT BACK RIGHT NOW YOU–” but Ivan was already gone, and everyone else was right on his heels. “Traitors.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Sale! I have sale on marigolds! Buy six, get two zinnias free!”

“Are we gonna tell that freak to leave?” Francis met Lovino’s eyes from his cart outside Tino’s Tours and winked. “He’s blocking the door. I bet that was his kid that came in here earlier. Probably scouting out businesses to ruin.”

“But he sold me these flowers,” Antonio smiled, arranging the vase where it so obviously obstructed Lovino’s view.

“But Peter Gabriel’s lyrics are so…”

“Al, I don’t care,” Bella cut in. 

“So that snob who wouldn’t know good music if it crawled up his ass and died couldn’t take my awesome, right? Gilbert laughed, restocking the snacks.

“Rodrick? I'm going to a concert with him tonight,” Eliza smiled.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be _really_ fun, who was playing again?” Feliciano wondered.

“He said we’d probably never heard of them before,” she shrugged, and Gilbert pretended to throw up.

“But _Phil Collins_?” Alfred groaned.

“I told you not to bring it up,” Bella growled.

And then for a few beautiful hours, everything was kind of peaceful. Everyone was actually _working_. And Lovino came across the miraculous(ly good? Bad? He didn’t really know) discovery that Antonio had his CDL. It was almost suspiciously convenient that he showed up just when they needed another driver. No one fought. No one broke anything. There was just the low, pleasant drone of meaningless chitchat.

But that all blew up in a plume of colored smoke riding on the shriek of the fire alarm.

Feliciano screamed, knocking over the snack rack before he scrambled back to his feet, racing Bella and Torris to the door. Lovino was already outside. There were a lot of ways to die in the world, but he refused to go down with Tino’s sinking ship. And he definitely wasn’t dying with these idiots.

Gilbert and Alfred were the last two out. Ivan and Elizabeta didn’t exactly run, and Antonio had followed Lovino out like a lost duckling. But Alfred had gone running, yelling warnings to the whole neighborhood, crashing into Gilbert, and sending them both falling into Francis’ flower cart.

It was truly horrible.

There was daisies everywhere, and the shrieks and sobs of a grown man didn’t help the already deteriorating situation. “What the… oh my god, there’s smoke!” Yao gaped from the doorway of his own shop.

“Everyone out. Eduard, call the fire department!” Matthias yelled, pulling Ravis by the arm as they evacuated their building. “Hey! Where’s Tino?”

“Out with Arthur,” Lovino snapped. Great. People were gathering around like sitting ducks. Gilbert and Alfred were exchanging looks, and the delivery kid from next door was staring them down from the window.

And then Torris remembered something. “Feliks! He’s still in the back! Oh my god, he’s still back there!” he made it maybe three steps toward the growing haze of smoke before Ivan stopped him.

“Do not worry, you're totally useless in stressful situations, so I will go.” And vanished into the doorway before he could be stopped.

“Hey kid!” Matthias snapped, running after him.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you people,” Yao ranted. “My store isn't flammable. Why would you make flammable shops?” he paused and watched as Leon’s siblings poked their heads out to watch the commotion. “Did I say you could stop working? Get back there and don’t come back until you go on break!” they all flipped him off before they vanished back into the dim gold light of the Bistro.

And somewhere into the distance, sirens were approaching.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All Tino could hear was his own heart.

And a voice in his head that kept insisting they were all going to prison.

He wished his heart would beat a little louder.

What would Berwald think when it came out that he was holding a hostage in his storage room? He’d just stop talking to him. He was way too awkward to explain himself, especially to the guy he liked. Sort of liked? Definitely liked. On the upside, Lukas wouldn’t care, and Matthias would find it exciting. But he’d definitely get arrested, so that was a moot point.

Then a massive figure melted out of the haze.

“PUT ME DOWN! COMMUNIST! RUSSIA THINKS IT’S TOO GOOD TO BUY POLAND’S APPLES!” Feliks’ limbs were flailing in all directions as Ivan carried him out, over his shoulder, screaming. Ivan cringed at the stream of profanity pouring from his mouth and finally dropped him on the pavement at Tino’s feet, leaving him grumbling about the international fruit trade, pieces of gravel tangling into his hair.

“If I hadn’t gotten to you, you would have burned up like Poland in 1939,” Ivan smirked.

“Take it back. Kurwa! Twoja stara ciagnie psu! Take it back right now!” Tino was barely able to hold him back, because damn, for a kid who came to work almost every day in a dress, he had some strength in him.

The fire department had already put out the flames. Now it was just smoke and sizzling piles of charred garbage. Eliza and Lovino were let out of the police car, shaking with anger as they joined the others.

“Sir! We found the cause!” Ludwig melted out of the alley, holding the mangled corpse of a giant firework. “There’s no danger, it’s just smoke. Someone lit this off in the alley.”

The fire chief stepped out of the building, two of his men behind him. “Damn kids,” he spat as Matthias climbed out, coughing. “We found a few fliers covered with bible verse. Does that mean anything to you?”

For a moment, Tino saw red. “It’s the Censorship Society. They’ve gone after us before.”

Chief Gupta nodded slowly, chewing his lip. “Alright I’ll look into that. Everything else checks out. We just need to let the smoke clear. You can return tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Tino gulped. But my house keys and everything are…”

“Too bad, can't go back up.” That didn’t sound right. Since when did firemen…?

Maybe they knew.

Ivan put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry boss. Everything will be okay.” Okay until they found Sadik. Speaking of that…

Why hadn’t they found him yet?

Lukas cast one dark look at Matthias before he retreated back towards his theater, shielding his eyes from the sunlight. “Hey, Lukas, wait up buddy!” he called through the gathering crowd, raising his voice over Francis’ sobbing.

Alfred and Gilbert had their eyes on the cobblestone road, too quiet and too sullen to be innocent of anything here, and Bella looked pissed beyond belief.

“You two!” he barked. “We still have access to the water sports and the busses right?” Gil nodded without looking up. “Good. Then classes and tours will go on as usual. Feli and Bella, go home. Torris, I didn’t have you scheduled for anything right?” he shook his head. “Take Feliks home. Eliza and Alfred, you have the afternoon shift as guides. Antonio, shadow Ivan as a driver. Make sure you remember the routes.”

“Boss, you can't be serious. He’s from that nutty society. They're gonna destroy us from the inside out!”

“Lovino, shut up.”

He cast another look at the towering plumes of smoke, rising into the blue sky, like a fog of utter darkness.

It was only noon.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The streetlights were on and the first stars were twinkling in the darkening sky as they drove on. “So how are you going to get back in your house?” Lovino wondered as he pulled up in front of Feliks’ house. “Torris, you're getting out here too?”

“Yeah, I left my keys under the front desk, so Feliks’ parents are letting me stay over. Thanks for the ride.”

Lovino looked at Tino as the door clicked shut. “I'm probably going to have to break in.” he shrugged.

“You don’t think those firemen will find…”

“Ivan said not to worry about it,” Tino coughed. “That means it’s going to be fine.”

“Tino, I mean this, as your friend, I don’t trust him. I know we run a shop full of idiots, and I know you're under a lot of stress, but you need to reassess the people you keep close to you. Ivan’s smart. He’s efficient. He’s really good security, but he’s a total bastard. He’s planning some scheme. I know it.” He turned onto the main road, kicking it up to sixty as they sped toward Tino’s little rental.

“You just hate him. He’s a good kid.”

“He’s not. And neither is Antonio. He’s part of the Censorship Society, who, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, hate us. They fucking hate us. To the point of violence.”

“Lovino…” his voice trailed off. Outside, the sun was sinking low in the sky, threatening to set soon, casting the trees into golden light. The imprint of the moon had appeared near the horizon, like glossy bone in the pale sky. Lovino pulled up in front of the little box Tino called home, unlocking the door as he threw it into park. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. I've had a long day and I'm not thinking clearly.”

“Where’d you go today anyway?” Lovino sighed.

“Nowhere.” And he got out of the car, walking up the driveway and to the door. He heard Lovino drive off and silently cursed himself, wondering what exactly he could possibly do now.

Because that morning, he’d locked all his widows and he was, most definitely, locked out. And of all the numbers in his phone, he could only really think to call one.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“This is okay, right?” Tino sighed, stroking Hana’s head as Berwald led him up to his front door.

“I don’t mind.”

“Thanks today had just been so… so awful.”

“I could imagine. I’ll set up the guest room.” He stopped and turned so suddenly that Tino only just stopped himself from walking into him, and his vision filled with the electric blue of his eyes. He could _feel_ his breath on his _skin_.

“Thanks Ber,” he gulped, stepping back. He examined the scuffmarks on his sneakers before he looked up again.

He nodded and stalked off towards the stairs, freezing at the banister and turning back. “What exactly happened? Before the fire?”

Tino forced a smile and took a breath. “Well…”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took forever to write! Thanks to everyone who left those lovely comments! As always, leave me your suggestions or comments, especially if there's anything you want to see happen! Poland and Russia's relationship curtsy of my lovely Polish roommate, our Russian friend and all their pointless arguments.


	7. The Lost Fruit Salad and a Randomly Displaced Romanian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! sorry this took so long, work's been crazy, then my computer broke for a few weeks. Thank you to everyone who left comments, and especially to the suggestions! I hope to have the next chapter out sooner, but I don't want to jinx myself. Thanks for reading, and as always leave kudos, comments, critiques and suggestions!

“Can you believe it? My cousin was meaning to demolish it for years. The stupid git finds god and moves to a third world country, and leaves the whole place to me.” The old Chevy van rolled over the splotches of uneven, patched over pavement,.

“Arthur, this is such a great idea. We’ll totally make a killing off this.”

“I thought you might like it. Bloody building’s been sitting there for decades. It’s part of the town’s history. I don’t see why we can't collaborate on a tour.”

“As long as it’s structurally sound,” Tino grinned, pausing to squint out the window as the line of trees fell away, revealing the stained, molding walls of the old hospital, long abandon, its barred windows glazed over like dead eyes. “We can get someone to inspect it.” He scrambled out of the car and followed Arthur to the door, wrapped in yellow caution tape. Past the smudged and overturned lobby, the hallways were cluttered with old gurneys and flyaway hospital records. “What do you think? Should we do some extra decorating?”

“I suppose. We won't have to do much. Just clear a path. Not very large as far as hospitals go. It’ll still make for a good ghost tour.”

“I heard this place is older than the town,” Tino smirked. “They used to keep all the crazies here, and when it closed, some of them started living in the tunnels beneath it.”

“I hope you don’t believe that rubbish, but I like that idea. You should tell it on tours,” Arthur chuckled.

“No it’s true! I knew someone who knew someone who…” something he thought was just a paper crumpled at an odd angle, moved in a way too life-like to ignore. “Oh look, a cat.”

“Two cats,” Arthur mumbled, watching an orange tabby scuttle after its black and white friend.

“We’ll probably have to get them all out before we start work on this place.”

“Don’t you keep cats in your shop now?”

Tino spun on his heels. “Who told you that?”

“Oh, Peter mentioned it. Heard it from his babysitter… um, Berwald?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah. We keep cats. And a dog.” He rounded a corner into one of the examination rooms, searching the corners with his flashlight, chasing the bugs with the beam as they scuttled into the darkness.

“Hey did you hear something?” Arthur coughed.

 _Knock, knock_.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Tino jumped, then laughed at himself as Berwald got up to check the door. “I scared myself. Ha. The place was so creepy.” He finished off his second cup of coffee and got up to pour himself more.

Berwald grunted, flipping the lock and opening the door. In with the morning light came the boisterous voice of a man with a great tan and a bandaged nose.

“G’day Ber! Didn’t know you had company! This bludger here dropped our billy off the balcony. Mind if we borrow some morning tea?”

“I _told_ you I was right _sorry_ about that Kyle.” It was almost sarcastic, almost angry. Tino almost didn’t see the smaller man behind Kyle as he bounded in the room. His features were soft and bright and his dark hair was curly and a little puffy. He had the biggest green eyes Tino had ever seen on a man, so he almost looked like a teenager.

“Oi, hello there. I'm Kyle. This is Wellesley. We live next door.”

“Um, hi, I'm Tino. Nice to meet you…” he trailed off as Kyle started opening cabinets and glancing under the furniture.

“Oh, sorry mate, I'm looking for my fruit salad. Bloody things gone walkabout.”

What? Tino glanced at Berwald wondering if he’d heard that right. “Um not that I didn’t understand you, but English is my second language…”

“He means that it’s missing,” Wellesley said with a pained smile, like that gave him any context at all. “I'm sorry about him. I actually live next door and he… um… moved in… unexpectedly… and from what I understood at the time, temporarily.”

“I sold my house boat,” Kyle added. “Got tired of that life, so I moved in with my old Kiwi mate from school.” He slung an arm around Wellesley, and Tino thought he saw his eye twitch behind the smile. “So Ber, how about some brekkie?”

“Gee, I need t’ go sh’ppn’,” he muttered.

“Don’t get your nickers in a twist, I’ll go get some of Wels’ tucker n’ we’ll cook it up here. Keep an eye out for my fruit salad now. Don’t get your fingers too close, damn thing bites.” Tino watched him stand and pace to the door, stopping in the hallway and looking back in. “Wels, you seen my thongs lately?”

“No!” he snapped, before the Aussie shrugged and slipped out, leaving Wellesley with his head in his hands.

“Um…” Tino cleared his throat.

“Thongs are flip flops,” he said quickly, looking up at him.

There was a moment of silence, and for once, Tino wasn’t the one who was totally uncomfortable. “Did he mean it like flip flops?”

More silence. “No clue.” Which meant probably not. “Um, don’t mind me, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything…”

“You didn’t,” Tino said quickly. “I was just talking about work.”

Berwald sat down between them, sliding a box of cereal and three bowls into the middle of the table. “Right. So wh’t h’ppened next?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was a scuffling sound coming from one of the back operating rooms. It might have been a rat. It definitely might have been a rat.

But rats didn’t sob. Rats also didn’t speak in languages that sounded distinctly Eastern European. Then again, Tino had never met an Eastern European rat, so maybe they spoke some sort of language. They were probably big as hell too.

“What in god’s name…” Arthur whispered.

“Shhh.” Tino pressed himself to the wall, inching down the black halls to the faintest flicker of light beneath one of the swinging doors. In the shadows, he saw Arthur's signal. One… two… three!

Tino kicked the door open without considering that he was completely unarmed and this could definitely end very badly.

“WAHHHHHHHH!” the intruder wailed.

“EAAAAHHHHH!” Arthur shrieked then clamped a hand over his mouth when Tino gave him his most well-rehearsed judgmental look. “Eh-hem. Sorry…”

Tino looked back at the intruder, almost surprised. Almost. Sitting on the ground beneath the old operating table, next to an electric lantern, eyes puffy and red, even in the darkness, little hat ajar on his head, was Vlad.

“Um…” Tino began then cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”

“I…” he began, voice raspy. “Yeah. I um… I'm fine.”

“What are you doing here lad?” Arthur wondered.

“This is… um where I come to think…” he lifted his arms and froze, staring at the needle in his left hand, “and… uh… look for props for my shows.”

Arthur looked at Tino, this time with more fear than anger. The shelves around the room were overturned, and there were old, clouded bottles scattered across the smudged linoleum floor. “Um,” he began, “does anyone know you're here?”

“Yeah, I'm sure.”

Somewhere in another room, a cat meowed and Vlad let out another sob. “How did you get in here Vlad?” Tino gulped. He never heard his answer because the door to the operating room made a clicking sound and Arthur spit out a four letter word Tino didn’t feel comfortable acknowledging. “Arthur, what the hell was that?”

“That door doesn’t lock.” He rushed over and peered out the port windows, too over-oxidized to actually see anything. “HEY! GET BACK HERE! Someone was running away!” Vlad let out a whimper. Arthur gave the door another shove. “Something’s blocking us in.”

“You didn’t check this place for squatters before you brought me here?” Tino scowled.

“It wasn’t a squatter, it was a drug addict. I…” he was drowned out as another wave of wails bubbled up from Vlad. “Tino shut him up!”

“Vlad put down the needle, you’re going to give yourself hepatitis.”

“ _That’ll_ help.”

_“Sounds like you work with some real bogans.”_

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Wellesley let out a breath and pursed his lips. Tino didn’t go on because he really wanted to know what the hell a bogan was.

 “I didn’t find the fruit salad,” Kyle grinned, setting down a bowl of pancake batter and some eggs on the table. “Thing’s probably halfway down the street by now.”

“I'm sorry, when you say fruit salad…” Tino began, squinting at them, “what do you mean?”

“We just got a dog,” Wellesley scowled. “ It’s a mutt and we haven’t decided on the name yet.”

“Oh, you're raising a dog together?” Tino smiled.

Wellesley’s eye twitched. “So you're sleeping with Berwald right?”

Tino spit out his coffee as Berwald stayed impressively stoic. “We’re not sleeping together,” he laughed, dabbing up the coffee with a stray napkin.

“Yet,” Berwald added, and Tino almost flipped the goddamn table.

“Hmm, interesting, and here you are sleeping over,” Wellesley hummed in a way  in a way so passive aggressive that Tino had to assume he struck a nerve.

“My keys got locked inside a burning building, so I’m staying here until I can get them back.” He glanced out the window, watching a squirrel as it bounced along the hedge by the mailbox.

Wellesley took a sip of his coffee with a casual shrug. “That sounds like code for something.”

“ _That_ sounded like code? Out of all the things in this conversation, _that_ …”

“Googs are done. Pancakes will be up in no time.” Kyle sat down so fast he almost fell off his chair, taking his plate of eggs with him. “What are we talking about?”

“Tino’s breaking and entering hobby,” Wellesley deadpanned, holding eye contact.

“Oh so you're a hoon then?” Kyle chuckled.

“No, no that’s not true. Let me explain…”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Two hours. Two fucking hours.

“I-spy with my little eye something… orange.”

“Is it a pill bottle?” Tino droned, locking eyes with Arthur.

“Which pill bottle?”

“That one by the door?” he sighed.

“Nope.”

Arthur let out a long breath and looked at his phone again. No service. No escape. “Is it the one under the table?”

“Yeah!” Vlad grinned. “Now it’s your turn.”

“How about we play something else?” Arthur huffed. Vlad’s face dropped, and Tino gave him a warning look. “Eh-hem… I mean… I spy something… um… green.” He was about to kill someone. Literally, he was going to murder someone if he didn’t get out of here. He couldn’t survive another round of I-spy.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Arthur scowled as Tino stood up and started pacing. “We’re in the middle of a game.”

“Keep an eye out for something blunt.”

“Ooh! I got it! It’s the jacket the guy is wearing in the poster!” Vlad squealed, pointing to the CPR guide on the wall behind Arthur.

Arthur blinked. “Huh? Oh. Yeah, sure.”

“Okay… I spy with my little eye…”

Before Vlad could think of anything, Tino started pulling open drawers. Finally, shoved behind the operating table, his hand found the rusted over exterior of what was at one point a pipe in the plumbing system, now their ticket to freedom.

“Has that been there all along?” Arthur groaned.

“I spy something…”

And Tino swung at the window.

“Something… blue.”

And he swung again.

“The handle on that cabinet?”

And on the third try, the glass shattered.

“Nope. Try again.”

He pried the pipe free of the reinforcement wires and reached through, yanking away the baseball bat that was wedged through the door handles. Even in the dim light he could make out the bright red lettering on the side.

 _Warning_ , it said, in fresh paint.

“Hooligans! All of them,” Arthur scowled, jumping up and kicking the door open with a little too much force, so it just swung back and smacked him. “Damn city with its damn drug problem. I swear if I were in charge I'd round them all up and send them somewhere else. Endangering our children like this. Hmp!”

Vlad sniffled, visibly holding back another wave of tears.

“Arthur let’s leave and file a police report,” Tino gulped. He didn’t like this. Something was wrong.

He was the first out into the hallway. It was almost silent, and it wasn’t until they were so close to the exit that they actually heard it.

“I'm not worried about that twit, Hercules. I'm worried that Sadik’s gone crawling to Tim’s side. He knows way too much. Tim has our heads on a plate.” Oh no…

Tino didn’t wait to hear the rest. He turned and ushered Arthur and Vlad in the other direction. “Is there a back door?” he gasped.

“There should be. What the hell was that?” Arthur whispered.

Vlad sniffled.

“Hey!”

The footsteps in the darkness behind them echoed off the walls as they sprinted to the back door. Tino didn’t think he’d ever run so fast before. He’d never thought he’d die on the floor of an abandon hospital by the hand of some crazy drug dealer. Not in a million years would he consider that to be how he went. He always thought it would be like, a caffeine induced heart attack, or some sort of Matthias-related incident involving heavy machinery. But huh, the drug trade would do him in. If he knew that in high school he definitely would have tried way more drugs. Maybe like, LSD or something cool like that.

Or maybe he would try not to die. Yeah, that sounded promising.

“Get back here!” the accent was hard to place. Something Middle Eastern maybe.

Arthur was the first to the door. Vlad tripped over the frame and landed face-first on the pavement. Tino only just got a hold of his shirt and yanked him up before they rounded the building.

BANG!

Tino screamed and Vlad started crying again just as both went crashing into the side of Arthur’s mini-van.

_“They had guns?”_

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“ _No_. They’re drug dealers. They had sticks and rocks,” Wellesley scoffed.

“What?” Kyle looked up at Wellesley and Tino couldn’t tell if he was pretending he hadn’t heard him or genuinely only listened to the sound of his own voice. The second he turned to Wellesley, his scowl fell away and he forced a beaming smile at him.

“I said, isn't that exciting?”

“No you didn’t…”

“Yes I did.”

Berwald cleared his throat. “Arth’r n’ Vlad were ok’y?”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, Arthur was okay. Vlad was a little out of it, and he scraped his face up when he fell,” Tino shrugged, pouring himself more coffee. “It wasn’t even the worst part of my day, you know?”

Somewhere outside, they heard a bark and a series of screams.

“Found ‘em,” Kyle gasped, jumping up and racing to the door.

Wellesley leaned back in his chair, watching him go before he started picking at his abandoned plate. Berwald swept his hair back and adjusted his glasses.

“Oh, I hope no one’s hurt,” Tino mumbled, straining his neck to see out the window.

“Meh,” Wellesley shrugged. “So is that the end?”

“Almost.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“He’s alright, he’s just…” Arthur trailed off as Danail stared at them with big, horrified eyes.

“In the abandon hospital?” he gulped.

“Yeah, we thought we better bring him back here,” Tino nodded.

Danail pulled Vlad into the doorway then pursed his lips. “Thanks. Um, for bringing him back. Was there anyone with him?”

“Some squatters,” Vlad shrugged. “Never saw them.”

Danail squirmed for a second or two then took a breath. “At least you’re all okay.”

“What exactly was he doing there?” Tino snorted, and Danail’s face dropped.

“Oh um… no clue…” he almost laughed. But it just sounded so fake. “I’ll find out I guess.” And he slammed the door in their faces.

“That was weird,” Tino grumbled, as they started walking again. “He’s usually so happy.”

“Honestly, I'd rather not know what the poor kid’s gotten himself into,” Arthur shrugged. “I have to file a report about those squatters.” He looked into the nearest storefront, Francis’ home base, and made eye contact with the kid who ran the front desk. “Is that Alfred?”

“Hmm?” Tino blinked. “Who?”

“Never mind. You know, usually, once we pass the music shop, that bloody frog and his cart start pestering me and…” his jaw dropped. “Good god…”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“And that’s when I saw the fire trucks.”

“So, did your store burn down?” Wellesley snorted.

“No, thank god, and no one got hurt. Someone set a fire in the alley next to the building. They needed to let the smoke clear out.”

“Huh…” Tino waited for more, but Wellesley just sipped his coffee.

“Wels!” Kyle yelled from the window, gripping something that definitely wasn’t a dog. “I caught him!” the thing – dogs didn’t have claws – cast them an evil glare.

“Oh… joy,” Wellesley groaned, cringing.

“What the hell is that?” Tino gasped, looking at Berwald.

“Looks l’ke a bear,” he muttered, lip curling.

“I'm gonna take him home, then I'm gonna go down to the bay to meet up with those Sheila’s I told you about.”

“Hope they have all their shots.”

“What?” The… the thing made a grab for his face, but he caught its little arm before it could get him.

“Okay, see you for dinner.” Kyle had to notice the passive aggressive remarks. He just had to.

“Probably won't be back until tomorrow,” Kyle beamed. Tino and Berwald exchanged looks.

“Oh. Alright,” Wellesley said, voice oddly even. “Rents due soon…”

“Right oh! Bye Ber, by Timo!”

“It’s Tino.” But he was already gone.

Wellesley let out a tired sigh and carried his empty cereal bowl to the sink. “I’m getting tired of setting that thing free. I’ll just clean up that idiots mess and go.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“It was like they were talking in code.”

“Well, they were Australian,” Alfred snorted as Tino unlocked the door. “So what about our… eh-hem… cat?”

“They didn’t find him. I want to know what Ivan did with him.”

“Dude, I don’t. So the neighbors… are they fucking? Are they friends? Are they related?”

“You know, I'm actually not sure. I don’t think Ber even knew.”

The door chimed behind them as Ivan stepped in, grinning. “Hello friends! How is everyone’s morning?”

“Ivan, man, where’s the cat?” Alfred huffed.

“Good to see you to Alfred, I'm fine thank you for asking. Let’s go make sure he is okay, da?” he crossed the lobby and ducked into the back rooms. “I put him in the cellar.”

“The cellar? Dude! We only use the cellar if we initiate phase seven!”

“I thought that was phase five?” Tino snorted.

“No that’s when we go up on the roof,” Al replied. “I hope he didn’t break anything.”

Ivan moved one of the crates out his way and flipped the hatch in the floor open. “FUCK YOU GUYS FOR LEAVING ME DOWN HERE!” a voice scowled.

“Well he’s okay. That’s cool, I guess.”

“I need coffee,” Tino grumbled as the door chimed again.

“Hey Tino!” uh-oh. Not one of his employees. “I need some help aru!”

“Mr. Yao!” Ivan smiled, beating Tino to the lobby. “You're looking very lovely today.”

“Don’t flatter me. Tino, I need your help. I lost one.”

Tino looked at Alfred and honestly thought about just running away to the coffee shop a block down the street. “Lost one of what?”

 


	8. The Delicate Art of Obtaining Free Food

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... I know... I'm awful. Next time I promise I'll have an update out sooner. Not that that means anything but my life's a little less hectic now. As always, comments and requests are welcome. Anything you all want to see next? A big thank you to everyone who has requested something or commented, your words keep me going XD. Enjoy!

“Stop crying! You deserved it!”

“Mr. Yao, I'm really sorry…” Tino grumbled as Torris came running in with an ice pack.

“Yong Soo! I said stop crying!”

There was nothing more freaking awkward than watching a parent ream out their teenager in public, and Tino really wished they'd leave his shop and stop scaring away his customers.

“Kids just lucky Elizabeta didn’t have anything heavier than a frying pan nearby,” Gilbert cackled, leaning into Tino’s space. “Last time I grabbed her boobs she broke my nose with a hammer.”

“We’ll continue this discussion at home!” Yao had him by the wrist as he dragged him out the door and into the morning.

“Good grief, it’s already one of those days,” Tino sighed, taking a long sip of his coffee as he slipped into the soft shadows of the back room. He was literally about to open the hatch to the hidden room – he had his hand on the handle – when he heard giggling. And not the normal Feliks giggling.

“Hello?” he snapped.

“OMG boss, you should come back out to the front of the store!” Feliks, speak of the glittery little devil, called from the door marked “employees only.”

“Hang on…” he called as Alfred and Gilbert slipped in from the alley out back with the smell of cigarettes. He yanked away the tarp covering some of their old storage crates and, oddly enough, the crates started screaming.

“Ah! Asians!” Alfred yelped, and Gilbert whacked him on the back of the head.

“Mein Got, Yao just can’t keep control of his kids.”

Tino was still reeling from the mild heart attack he had at seeing the five teenagers hiding in his storage room. “So Yong Soo was a distraction?”

“He like, drew the short straw,” Emil and Feliks’ friend, Leon, shrugged. “We’re going to hang out here today. Emil said it’d be cool.”

“You know this isn't Emil’s store and I'm not related to him in any way shape or form, right?” Tino snorted, raising an eyebrow.

“So are you going to tell Yao?” the girl with the flower in her hair gulped.

“um… no, I guess not.” Then as an afterthought, “only if you help me with some paperwork.”

“Dudes, is working in Yao’s shop that bad?”

“Um…” the kid with the glasses and wild hair coughed, and they all looked at each other. “No, we kind of just wanted to piss him off.” Yikes. What monsters.

“So how’d Yao have so many kids so close together in age?” Gilbert snorted.

“We’ll I'm just a cousin,” Glasses shrugged. “And so is Linh.” The girl in the green jersey nodded, looking down at her feet.

“And the rest of us are basically free labor,” Leon scowled.

“Okay… alright… just come upstairs with me so you don’t disturb anyone,” Tino sighed. “you can file some paperwork.”

“Lunch is included, right?”

“Don’t push your luck Leon.”

*

“So it’s really simple. Totally impossible to screw up.”

“Are you sure?” Mei snorted, eyeing Bella, “because the way you're saying it, it doesn’t seem like it is.”

“No… it’s really not that hard. When people come in, just type their name into this field right here, and print their ticket. See. Easy.”

“What are these wrist bands for?” Leon grumbled.

“Oh, those? If they signed up for Jet Ski lessons, just check their receipt before you give them out.”

“Where are you going again?” Emil wondered. He had silently and mysteriously appeared at some point, and nobody remembered seeing him enter the store.

“Um, a meeting.”

“Everyone. The whole block?” Leon huffed.

“Um… yeah. If you really don’t get it, Antonio’s been working here three days and he kind of gets it.”

“Si, I'm here for you _niños_.”

“Is this about the censorship society?”

“No Emil, it’s about… decorating for Christmas.”

“It’s September.”

“Shut up and watch the door…” she almost told them not to go into the back room, but that sounded like a really cliché way to totally fuck themselves over. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

Tino and Alfred were waiting for her outside Matthias’ shop. “You two ready?” Tino sighed, fumbling with his sleeves.

“It’s just a meeting dude,” Alfred cackled.

“Just wait.”

Tino knew how bad this was going to suck long before he had his hand on the door to Matthias’ breakroom. “Stop grabbing at me you frog!” lord help him it had already begun.

“Elizabeta… Elizabeta… hey, Elizabeta, I have Rodrick’s wallet. What are you gonna do about it bitch?” THWAP! Maybe he could turn back around and walk back to his shop.

“Boss, we have to go in there,” Alfred whispered.

“Maybe we should just turn around and walk away…”

Bella stepped past him and shoved her way inside, dragging Alfred behind her. “Here we go babe…”

Francis was up on the table, avoiding Arthur's bat with expert dexterity. It was like a dance really, with all the hip movements. Just with more screaming. The whole room, in various levels of conflict – from Elizabeta gripping Gilbert’s ear, to the vaguely threatening way Ivan had his arm around Ravis – was frozen watching them like it was some kind of risqué performance. “Christ, I almost want to look away,” Alfred grumbled.

“Matthias, make them stop,” Lukas spat, voice hushed. He was in the seat besides Matt, looking twice as tired as Tino had ever seen him.

“Yeah, one more minute…”

Lukas grabbed him by the tie and slammed his head into the table. “Idiot.”

“I got it Luke,” Tino sighed. He remembered the old days when he walked into these things expecting everyone to behave. These days he brought and air horn with him.

It only took ten seconds of nerve wracking, ear shattering wailing from the little can to make them all bolt for their seats.

“Eh-hem. Thanks Tino,” Matthias coughed. “How’s it going with Berwald? Good? Bad? Why are you glaring at me? Oh, right. So you all know why we’re here, right guys?”

“Is it the drug dealing Romanian in the theater across the way?” Francis wondered.

“Um, no not really,” Matt laughed, but he sounded uneasy. “We’ve decided it’s best not to bring things like that up for now.”

“For now?” Arthur scowled.

“I don’t see them here now,” Roderick huffed.

“No one cares,” Gilbert called from the other side of the room, and Elizabeta smacked him on the shoulder.

“We’re here about the Censorship Society, right?” Torris gulped.

“Hang on, we’re missing Vash,” Tino noted, scanning the faces in the crowd.

“Couldn’t make it,” Lukas sighed. He was falling asleep.

“Yeah, the censorship society,” Matthias nodded, playing with his sleeve. “In case you didn’t know, one of Tino’s workers was attacked in front of my store last week. And I'm sure you’ve all noticed the fliers that have been appearing in our windows. My point is that these guys are hostile. For all we know the fire the other day was set off by them!”

“Matthias… don’t get too ahead of yourself,” Tino snorting, because he had a pretty good idea of who was responsible. And they were all definitely in this room right now.

“Okay, whatever,” he went on. “So I was thinking that if we could get someone to go undercover to their meetings, and figure out exactly what they're planning, then we could be better prepared.

“How about we just go to the fucking police,” Lovino spat.

“With what evidence?” Lukas shot back before he dropped his head back down on the table.

That’s our goal. Go to this meeting and get evidence,” Matthias nodded.

“You just came up with that you bastard.”

“There’s a meeting tonight, so… nose goes.”

Anyone who’d ever met Matthias as a teenager might have seen it coming. Most did. Arthur and Francis had been passive-aggressively elbowing each other and by the time they realized half the room was staring at them, it was too late to back out.

So when 8PM rolled around they were dressed in their best-pressed collared shirts, weaving their way through the hallways of the community building.

“ _Mon deu_ , of all the people in the world to be trapped in this awful place with, I get the scone sucking…”

“I know this is impossible for you Frenchie, but try to act like you have at least one decent bone in your body, you git.”

“Says the little man who own a leather shop.”

Arthur froze at the doorway to the meeting room and spun on his heels. “I sell vintage punk apparel you pansy!”

“This is the first time I've seen you out of your platform heels _Cher_ , you're so much shorter without them.”

WHACK!

He honestly expected Francis to his him back. He didn’t.

Instead they grabbed each other, throwing themselves into a kiss so ferocious it scared away all of Arthur’s worries of how indecent this was. He yanked Francis’ hair and pushed forward in their little war of whose tongue would top. He felt one very smarmy hand slide down his back and grope his–

“Ack!”

“Shut up,” Francis whispered, voice low and husky in his ear before he forced him against the door and sucked his bottom lip. “I bet I could find a good use for that tongue piercing.”

“Enlighten me, please…”

“Good lord, not in the goddamn doorway.”

They jumped apart like they had committed a crime.

“Um… uncle Artie?” the young man looked truly horrified.

“Wellesley…” Arthur gaped, desperately trying to get his hair under control. “Eh-hem… how’s your mother…?”

“Good… can I… um… can you move please?” he said, sheer disgust still flooding his eyes. Arthur nodded and yanked Francis out of the way.

“You know him?” he wondered, watching Wellesley vanish into the meeting room.

“Yeah, he’s my cousin’s son. He doesn’t strike me as the type to show up to meetings like this.”

“Frankly Cher, I'm surprised he didn’t say much more with that show we just gave him.”

“Never mention it again. Don’t think about me. Don’t think about my ass.  Keep your hands off.”

“Well when you say ‘my ass’ how could I ever…”

Arthur ducked into the room before he could hear the rest. There was… a surprising amount of people here. All in clean clothes and their best Sunday hats (except Wellesley who was in the back corner in sweatpants with a plate stacked high with refreshments). The table in the front of the room had a rainbow of cookies and muffins with little pitchers of juice and water.

“Hey, that kid there, he was hanging around when Felix was attacked. The one with the jelled up hair and sunglasses.”

“Oi, Arthur, there’s Vash,” Francis whispered, and for some horrible reason, it gave Arthur goosebumps. But he was right. That trigger-happy maniac was in the front row with a girl who had the same atrocious haircut, save for a pink bow.

“Call me crazy, but that doesn’t surprise me.”

Francis had already shuffled into a chair two or three rows back from the front of the room, where a small Japanese man had stepped up to the podium. “Good evening everyone.”

“Good evening Mr. Honda,” the room replied in unison. Arthur had to stop himself from screaming, it was so terrifying.

“ _Angletere_ , we may be in way over our heads,” Francis whispered, crossing himself.

“Shhh,” the girl next to him hissed.

“I see we have some new faces in the crowd. Why don’t we extend out our warmest welcome to them.”

A hundred pairs of cold, soulless eyes turned to Arthur and Francis.

“ _Bonjure_ …”

“Um… hello, pleased to meet all of you…”

“Now onto our first order of business,” Mr. Honda said, and Arthur let out a sigh of relief. “Cleaning up Main Street. As you are all aware, there is a rising drug problem and it is our duty as citizens to clean it up. Of course we all know the cause of these troubles…” he spun, turning to the chalkboard behind him, standing on his tiptoes to make the spelling as large as possible. “The homosexuals.”

“Unfortunately, it looks like we were correct,” Arthur muttered.

“SHHH!” she almost spat.

“ _Mademoiselle_ , perhaps if I help find you some presentable clothing rather than those rags, you’d have less of a stick up your ass…”

Arthur crunched down on Francis’s foot. The girl was glaring daggers, and he couldn’t stop thinking that there was something totally unhinged behind those sharp eyes and that frilly dress.

“Natalia, is there a problem?” Mr. Honda wondered, raising an eyebrow.

“No, none at all!” Arthur said quickly. “We were just asking her for some advice.”

“Kiku, they're lying. They were talking during your wonderful demonstration.”

“Lying will not be tolerated in these meetings. Apologize to Natalia or please leave. We are trying to build a better community here.”

“Better?” Francis spat, and Arthur cringed as the three men on their other side stood up.

*

“Homosexuals! _Mon deu_! The nerve. I’ve seen him at some of the seediest gay bars in town!” Francis huffed as he and Arthur were shoved out onto the sidewalk and into the open arms of the cool, crisp night.

“They seemed rather civil. Didn’t mention anything about violence.”

“You would defend them! Seeing as your own flesh and blood is a part of this.”

“He’s not…” Arthur’s voice fell away. It was certainly odd. Wellesley never struck him as the type to care much about his community. Actually, Arthur figured he’d still be in college. Unless he was getting the years confused. Who was the relative in college?

“The drug trade’s been affecting your business ventures, hasn’t it? So I would fully expect an angry little man like you would want to remove it.” The Frenchman’s tirade brought him back to the present.

“Francis, why would I think I have anything against the homosexuals?”

“You’re referring to them as homosexuals! See, you're using their terminology!”

He was quickly losing patience with this little game. “How? That’s bloody crazy. What if I called them the gays?”

“I would have accused you of being a bigot! The term is men who have sex with men.”

“You wanker, you’ve lost it.”

“Um, Uncle Artie, you're causing a scene.” Wellesley was standing there, muffin in hand, glaring with those venom green eyes. “I guess mom always did say you were the odd one.”

“Um… what are you doing here lad?” he had to ask. It was all too suspicious.

“Oh, I only go for the free food. Then I put headphones in or some shit so I don’t hear them ramble on while I eat. Didn’t expect to be traumatized by you and your…”

“Acquaintance,” Arthur cut in.

“Oi, you do that just for a free meal?” Francis scoffed. “Arthur, who’s crazy now?”

“Never underestimate broke, hungry and desperate.” He gave them a small shrug. “I have student loans to pay off. By the way, the guy in the white Mustang’s been wave’n at you for the past minute.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Arthur caught the gleam of the car’s headlights. The driver was cast into the shadows of the alley, one arm out the window, beckoning them over.

“What do you think _Mon Cher_?”

“Maybe he has the good drugs,” Wellesley shrugged, shoving through them to cross the street.

“Lad, don’t just go up to strange cars, your mother will kill me if you get yourself kidnapped.” He grabbed him by the shirt just as he got to the mouth of the alley. “Here’s ten dollars. Go home and tell mum I say hi.”

He narrowed his eyes to little slits of venomous green before he pocketed the money and turned back to the street. “Whatever, killjoy.”

“I see that your signature charm runs in the family.”

“Shove it up your arse Frenchie.”

Francis was already rounding the front of the car. “Oi, can we help you?”

The driver leaned out, grinning, his hair jelled up, a scar above shrewd, dark eyes. “Tino sent me to pick you up. My little sister Bella works for him.”

“Oh… well that’s convenient,” Arthur grinned, sliding into the passenger seat.

Francis hesitated, hand lingering on the handle of the back door before he flipped his hair like the little priss he was and slumped into the back. “Tim, right?”

“Yeah. I hope you guys have news, because I do, and it’s not good.”

*

“Good lord,” Arthur gaped, staring, hand over his mouth, at the front door of Lukas’ theater.

The money, or your life, it said in big black letters over a splatter of bright red.

“Is that… blood,” Francis gulped.

“No, it’s paint,” Lukas sighed. “I… think it was meant for Vlad’s theater.”

“I honestly would believe that,” Arthur nodded.

“It’s the Censorship society,” Tim shrugged, and all three of them stared in silence. he cleared his throat. “They’ve been at war with the Cartel’s for months.”

“Why would they want to extort me for money?” Lukas snapped, eyebrows up.

“Because they're no better than us… I mean the drug dealers. They're just trying to be scary.”

“Well maybe you can take your war and leave all of us shop owners out of it. Matthias is gonna lose his shit when he sees this. I don’t need this right now!” Lukas yelled, and slammed his ruined door behind him.

“So,” Tim grinned, straightening his shoulders.

“Which one of you is going to tell Tino you got kicked out before you found out anything important?”

And the fear in their eyes was picture worthy.


	9. Gilbert Take The Wheel...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR! I know I'm awful at updating this. The past few months have been a little overwhelming to say the least. Thank you to everyone who left kudos and comments! Since it took me a (shamefully) long time to get this up, I'm going to try to get the next chapter up in a week or so (Give or take a few days because time management is NOT my strong suit). As always, comments and suggestions are very welcome. Tell me what you want to see happen next!

 

“So Francis has been staying away,” Lovino said, halfway through folding a stack of fresh pamphlets.

“Yeah, he knows he’s a failure,” Tino smiled, then made eye contact with Francis, a block down the street at his cart, heckling two young women, and pointed two fingers at him in an _I'm watching you_ gesture.

“Kind of nice, you know?”

“He doesn’t block our door anymore,” Tino hummed, counting the week’s profits out on the counter. “We still need someone to go undercover at those meetings. Someone who won't give themselves away fifteen minutes in.”

“Good luck. With the psychos around here, you’ll have to look long and hard to find someone to hold their shit together for two hours.”

“Why don’t you go with Antonio? He’d love to take you.”

“I’d sooner carve out my eyes with a teaspoon.”

“Fair enough. Hey, we have all of tomorrow’s tours covered right?”

“Yeah, Boss, we’re good.

The door chimed and an older man strolled in, stirring the dust and the sunlight, long blonde hair pulled back, face set and stern. “Hello, welcome to Tino’s tours, I’m Tino. Can I interest you in our fall special? We have a sale on jet ski lessons this week.”

“No, my name is Hans Beilschmidt; I’m here to meet my grandson.” Gilbert did mention that something very stressful would be happening today in a text Tino received that morning.

“Gil’s running late today,” Lovino noted, and then looked up. “That’s weird. Gil’s never late.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “My other, _reliable_ Grandson will meet me as soon as his shift ends, so I will wait here until then.”

“Sure, no problem,” Tino smiled, pulling around a spare chair from under the counter. “I'm sure he’ll be here soon, so you can just relax.”

He fixed them both in an icy stare then sat down, picking up one of the spare pamphlets and flipping to the rules and conduct page.

When Gil finally showed his sorry ass, half an hour after his shift was supposed to start, Elizabeta was at his side, both disheveled and covered in bruises, clothes torn here and there and dusted with stray pieces of asphult. “Looks like they finally just fucked,” Lovino whispered to Tino.

He opted to ignore that. “Where the hell have you two been? Gil, your grandfather has been here waiting for you.”

He blinked. Then he blinked again. Then he brought his hands up to grip his head and said, eyes full of horror, “We were just kidnapped.”

Tino waited for Gil to break out in a grin, or for Elizabeta to kick him and say he was lying, but looking into her eyes, he could only make out wide green panic. “Oh god, your serious?”

“You’re a grown-ass man, who would try to kidnap you?” Lovino scowled.

Hans pushed back his chair with a scrape, on his feet and in Gilbert’s face before Tino could even register the movement. “What do you mean you were kidnapped? Did they hurt you? Call Ludwig – he’ll handle this.”

“I do not need to call my baby brother to clean up my messes, Opa.”

“He’s a police officer. He’ll know what to do.”

“You know,” Lovino began as they watched Hans dial his cellphone – one of those flip phones with extra large numbers, “eventually, the police are gonna start wondering why we always have some crazy emergency happening here.”

“Ludwig? Yes, it’s Opa. You need to come down to the tour building. Your brother was almost kidnapped. No, he’s alright now. Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

If Gilbert wasn’t so dazed, Tino was sure he’d be embarrassed half to death. “Guys, why don’t you sit down and relax, okay? Lizzy, do you want water or something?” he sighed.

“No, I'm okay. Thank you.” Her voice was flat and cold and so _not_ Elizabeta.

“Okay,” Tino began, reaching under the counter for a rag to wipe away the imaginary coffee stains in the wood, “on a scale of one to ten, how bad is this situation about to get?”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’ve got to be fucking with me.” Lovino refused to share his umbrella, even when the rain picked up and Tino threatened to dock his pay.

Ludwig had graciously offered to meet them across town at the scene of the incident, and Tino was doing his best to keep his foul-mouthed assistant from cursing him out.

The old black van was parked in a ditch just off a largely suburban street, doors slightly ajar, front window cracked on impact. “They pulled up as we were walking to work,” Elizabeta sighed, pulling down the hood of her already drenched sweatshirt. “We didn’t notice until they jumped out at us.”

Ludwig’s face was stoic as he peered in at the driver. Tino stood on his toes to get a good look over his shoulder, but the officer cleared his throat and stopped him. “Perhaps it’s best you don’t see what’s become of the driver. Run by me what exactly happened?”

“They jumped out, grabbed me, and Elizabeta followed us into the car,” Gilbert coughed.

“Liza, next time, don’t be a hero,” Lovino grumbled.

“I couldn’t let them take him,” she shot back. “One of them got his hands around my throat,” she pulled down her collar to show blossoming purple bruises at the base of her neck.

“He was the one who ran off after we crashed,” Gilbert went on. “I grabbed the driver by the hair and he lost control of the car. I may have... um, pulled the wheel. I mean, we were being kidnapped. We had to get away somehow. That’s self-defense, right?”

Ludwig cleared his throat and looked back and forth from Gilbert and Elizabeta, to Tino and Lovino, then finally to their grandfather. “Most likely, but I'd have to put the report through. Is there any reason they would go after either of you personally?” he narrowed his eyes. “Brother?”

“Why me?”

“last month alone, I received six calls complaining about you and an additional ten threatening to kill you to the station phone, which suggests that they are not afraid of the police knowing about their vendettas.” He scanned over all of them with a frigid glare.

“Little brother, those are just…”

“Could this be related to Feliks’ beating?” Tino coughed over the pouring rain.

“It is possible, although that appears to be a hate crime. It does seem as if your staff is being targeted. It could be related to the fire.”

“Somehow I doubt that…” Lovino snorted, locking eyes with Gilbert.

“Tino,” Ludwig sighed, “is there anyone knew in your life that maybe came around when this all started.”

“Um, not that I can… well, there’s Berwald, this guy I started dating recently. But he wouldn’t have a reason to go after us. And there’s Vlad, I recently started doing business with him a bit more. Oh but he’s nice, even if Matthias doesn’t think so. And then Arthur and I are collaborating. And you're a new face around my shop…”

“I bet he’s after my precious brother you potato…” Tino kicked Lovino in the back of the leg to shut him up.

“These are designer pants you heathen!” he growled, shaking his umbrella off and spraying Tino with a few stray streams of water. Then after a few seconds, “What about Antonio? You people don’t seem to listen when I say he’s part of the Censorship society. He chased Matthias and Lukas around the woods.”

“Don’t tell me you believe that?” Tino sighed.

“Even I think Antonio seems pretty damn harmless,” Gilbert snorted. “Back on topic. They can’t arrest us for this, right? It was self-defense.”

Ludwig cleared his throat. “Most likely, you will be fine.”

“ _Most_ likely?” Hans spoke up, circling the car to look at the driver. “Can’t you do better than that, Luddy? This is your little brother.”

“Opa, I'm older that him,” Gilbert snapped. Next to Tino, Elizabeta let out a long shaky sigh. She looked drenched to the bone and oh-so tired. They had to wrap this up soon. Tino wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

“The height always throws me off,” Hans shrugged.

Ludwig straightened up, and somewhat reluctantly turned to fully face Tino. “Although you all seem to believe the Censorship Society is responsible for these attacks, there is very little evidence to support those claims. They all appear to be what they advertise – non-violent, if not somewhat bigoted, upstanding citizens. Regardless of what they think of you, we can’t police people’s thoughts. Most likely this is the work of the Cartels, in which case, it will open an investigation as to why drug runners are interested in my younger brother.” Silence settled over the group, broken only by the heavy patter of rain.

“Little brother, you can’t honestly believe…”

“I will believe what the evidence tells me.”

“Won’t they investigate you since all cops are corrupt and all that shit?” Lovino snapped.

“Well then,” Hans huffed, putting his hands in his pockets, “we’ll just have to get rid of the body.” Now Tino knew which grandson took after him more. That was a total Gilbert solution.

“Look,” Tino began with a sigh, “I don’t want to be involved in this anymore. I could lose my business, and my friends…” and he was keeping someone hostage in his storage room. So maybe it was better if he didn’t dig himself any deeper.

Eh, what the hell? He was already way in over his head anyway.

But before he could say anything, a big black car rolled up, pulling to the side of the road and honking its horn. “Lovi!” someone shouted, opening the driver’s side door. The voice was deep, thick with an Italian accent. “I thought that looked like your car!” an older man stepped around to join them with a thick head of curls and a jaw that could cut glass. “I was driving Alphonse home from school when I saw you guys. What are you doing?”

Nobody said a word.

“Not a good time, gramps,” Lovino sighed. The passenger door clicked open and a kid, maybe thirteen or fourteen, who looked surprisingly like the Vargas brothers, popped out. “Not. A good. Time.”

“Is that man dead, grandpa?” Alphonse asked, and Tino cringed. This literally couldn’t get any worse. Actually, it probably could, so he decided to stop before he jinxed it

“Why yes, I believe he is dead,” Grandpa Vargas grinned. Actually _grinned_.

“Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to please leave the scene of this investigation,” Ludwig coughed.

“Hey, aren’t you my little Feliciano’s friend?” he pointed out, and at the mention of Feli’s name, the officer blushed.

“Um, yes, I believe we met the other night.”

“You’ve got to be fucking with me,” Lovino growled.

“Why didn’t you say so? If you needed help getting rid of a body, you could have just come to me,” Grandpa Vargas smiled. What weird luck. What weird timing. Tino was starting to think that he had just stumbled into the wrong side of town.

“What?” Elizabeta muttered, narrowing her eyes. She still looked out of it.

“Back in my youth, I used to get into all sorts of crazy shit, you know? This is nothing. And I’ll do it for free.”

“I can’t do this anymore!” Lovino yelled, storming back to his car, parked a few meters away.

“Alphonse, go with your brother, this is going to get messy,” Grandpa Vargas laughed.

“Okay! Wait up Lovi!” Alphonse all but giggled as he ran to Lovino’s Fiat.

“Do me and Lizzy have to be here for this?” Gilbert sighed, and Tino found his _out_.

“Yup, this is your fault, and as your boss, I'm making you take responsibility. So I’ll see you guys later, and don’t worry about your tours. I’ll take those too.” He grinned, backing up to Lovino’s car. “Good luck Hans. And guys, be back for your afternoon shifts, okay?”

“Thank him for understanding, Gilbert,” he heard Hans say.

“Tino wait,” Elizabeta gasped.

But he was already long gone.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alphonse turned out to be pretty helpful, as far as free child labor went.

Tino managed to force out all thoughts of dead bodies as he slipped into the back to feed Sadik. “I brought you coffee this time since you haven’t snapped at my hands lately.”

“Oh awesome,” he said, peering out through the slot in the door. “And thanks for the newspaper.”

“No problem, we’re not savages you know.” He pulled up a chair and sat, back on the wall next to the door. “So, these attacks… are they the cartels?”

Sadik was silent for a moment. “Probably some of them. A lot of these guys are local burnouts. Sometimes they do stupid shit, but they usually don’t go out of their way to attack randoms.”

“You did,” Tino noted, passing a plate of the requested falafel and the mug of coffee through the slit in the door. “You better eat all of that – we had to drive across town to get it.”

“I’m watching my meat intake. And that wasn’t a random. That was Bella.”

“Yeah, what’s with that?”

“We’re meant to be together,” he huffed.

“Whatever you say,” Tino snorted. “So would the cartels, say… pull up in a van and try to kidnap someone?”

“Yeah probably. Why? Did that happen? Maybe they're trying to find me.”

“They failed miserably.”

“That’s them.”

“One more question. You don’t happen to have a chemist from Bulgaria or Romania in your cartel, do you?” Tino supposed he could push his luck this one time.

“See, now you're being too specific. I'm not incriminating anyone, man.” He paused then laughed. “Even though you can’t really tell anyone anyway without being arrested for kidnapping.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Eh, boss, I need your help up here!” Lovino yelled from the front.

“I’ll see you at closing time with your dinner,” Tino sighed, standing up and stretching his stress worn muscles.

“Oh, Tino, one more thing,” Sadik called after him. “This guy your dating? Stop hesitating and go for it. He’s probably not as big a square as you think. Feliks won’t shut up about it.”

Tino couldn’t stop himself from blushing. “Um… thanks… I’ll keep that in mind.”

In the front, Lovino was about to blow up at a big buff blonde guy with long hair. “Oh, Kyle. Funny seeing you here,” he gulped.

“Eh, you're Berwald’s mate! How’s it going? I'm taking my little bugger cousin on a Jet Ski ride. I promised the little dingbat I'd show her a good time while she visits,” he rambled, flashing a big white grin. The girl behind him, a younger teenager at most, with pigtails and high boots, cringed and took a few steps back away from Kyle, face beet red.

“Tino, what the fuck is this guy saying?” Lovino snapped. “Is my translation off or are those words coming out of him not English?”

“I've got this Lovino, go file something,” Tino said. “Give me one minute Kyle, I’ll set up your appointment. Is this weekend good?”

“Right-o!”

As Tino turned to the computer, out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted Alphonse slip up with a few stray flowers and throw an arm around Kyle’s cousin. “Names?” he coughed.

“Kyle and Wendy.”

He definitely heard the words “ _Sei bellissima_ ” and “go out sometime” come out of that kid’s mouth.

“Let me print the ticket.” And when he turned back around, those two brats were making out, in plain view. In. Plain. View. Did anybody have morals anymore?

Said the guy who was now involved in a plan to get rid of a dead body.

Thank god, Lovino swooped in and dragged his brother away before Kyle turned around. “Where did you get these flowers?” he snapped. And Tino looked up just in time to make eye contact with Francis as that asshole ran away from his door, flower cart in tow. Foiled again, huh?

“Ready to go kiddo? Gotta get ready for tonight. I'm going on a beer crawl all over town,” Kyle was saying, looking down at Wendy with a dazzling smile.

“Uncle Wes said you’re a good-for-nothing that just gets drunk and chases girls,” Wendy scowled, hands on her hips.

“Oi, he’s not your uncle,” Kyle cringed. “He’s just joking. He loves to mess around like that. Good old Wes. Always being funny.”

“He didn’t seem like he was joking. He tore a magazine in half when he said it and tossed it across the room,” she noted, raising an eyebrow.

“Alright, that’s enough causing a scene, we better get back in time to feed that fruit salad,” he grinned, leading the way, somewhat sheepishly, out onto Main Street.

“I wish you’d let me name the bloody thing, Kyle,” Wendy sighed, then stopped in the doorway and backtracked, trotting up to Alphonse, who was still trapped in Lovino’s grip. “Call me okay? We’ll go out sometime.” She pushed a crumpled piece of paper into his hand.

“How’s tonight? We can see a movie?” he grinned. He looked so much like Feliciano when he smiled is was a little scary. She gave him a wide smile and a nervous nod before she followed her cousin out. “Goodbye _Bella_!”

 “Alphonse, what have I told you?” Lovino snapped. “Don’t make out with a girl if her male relatives are close enough to catch you and beat you up. Especially if they're bigger then you.”

“Sorry frattello.”

And Tino burst out laughing.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Don’t hesitate. Don’t hesitate. Don’t hesitate.

Sadik’s words were playing back in Tino’s head as he sat on Berwald’s couch curled into the side of the giant Swede. Their hands met in the popcorn bowl between them, yet again, and after a moment, they both pulled back. They were watching some movie – maybe a comedy, maybe a really bad horror movie, Tino wasn’t paying attention enough to tell – and every second they just sat there felt like a lifetime.

So, the clock struck one AM and Tino finally swallowed his pride.

“Hey, Ber,” he said, voice oddly even. Thank god it was too dark to make out that formidable glare of his.

“Mm?

Tino straightened up a little and, putting his hand on Berwald’s shoulder, leaned in to kiss him… only to scratch himself on his glasses. “Ow… ah! Sorry.”

“My fault,” he grunted, and pushed them up onto his forehead.

And Tino attacked.

Well, not so much attacked, more like swallowed his fear and went in for another kiss. It started off slow. He closed his eyes and just went with it. But while he wasn’t hesitating, Berwald was. So he took it a little farther – just a little lip biting. And then a little tongue. And then a lot of tongue. And – oh! – Berwald was good with his hands.

He pulled away for a split second, just long enough to give Berwald a hungry grin.

And in a flash of hands and awkwardly desperate breaths, Tino found himself on the Swede’s lap, arms around his neck, his own hands fumbling with Berwald’s shirt buttons as they kissed. “Do you have a…”

“Mm,” he grunted into Tino’s lips, pulling a little plastic square from his back pocket.

“Good.”

And just as he was making progress with the buttons – just as Berwald’s hands started to move a little more – his phone started ringing.

“It’s Matthias,” he sighed, and turned it off, tossing it onto the couch.

Only for Berwald’s phone to start ringing.

“Matthias…” he grunted.

“Just answer it. If it’s something stupid we can kill him tomorrow.”

“Hello…?” Excited rambling on the other end filled the silence. “You’re in… jail?” more rambling as Tino felt a headache starting to break near his temples. Berwald pulled his head away from the receiver. “He’s w’th two of your empl’yees.”

“Oh goddamn it.”

 

 

 

Key~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alphonse - Seborga

Wendy - Wy

_Sei bellissima - you're beautiful/ sexy_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive the plot. I know it's all over the place, but I'm going for more of an ongoing comedy than something more serious or suspenseful. But Don't worry! Lots of illegal activity to come! Also, I'm not sure where I stand on the whole Austria/Hungry Prussia/Hungry ship. or maybe Austria Prussia? Where do you guys stand? I'll probably revisit it a few chapters from now.


	10. The Not-So-Dead Body and The Bad Touch Trio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a relatively fast update! I have a busy semester coming up but I'll try to update once a month, then take a break in April when exams pick up. My computer is being repaired and I wrote this on my tablet, so sorry if there's more grammar/spelling errors than usual. Spell check is my life. Remember to comment, and I always love to hear your suggestions! Who should the next chapter be about?

“You two make sure you secure those cement blocks,” Mr. Vargas – he asked them to call him Grandpa, but Gilbert and Elizabeta were afraid to – said, scanning the harbor for boats. “I’ll keep watch with Hans. When you’ve got them secure, just give him a good push into the tide and come back to the car.”

“Got it,” Elizabeta sighed. The panic had long since given way to steely determination. She had a bright future. She wasn’t going down because Gilbert pissed someone off. In the back of her mind, a little voice kept saying that they should have just called the police.

The lights from the harbor were choked out by the rain and the fog. It was dusk, and they were knee deep in mud and Sandcrabs, footsteps hidden by the sharp swamp grass that kept the harbor from the ocean at low tide.

“The beach looks nice,” Gilbert hummed. His voice was soft now as he picked up the rope and looped it through the hole in the concrete block.

“It looks muggy and gross,” she bit back.

“Yeah,” he replied. And then after a few moments of the quiet rush of rain and seawater, he went on. “How was your date with that snob, Roderick?”

She let out a long breath. “He’s not a snob, you're just a savage. The concert was amazing. So much fun.” Her voice felt flat and dead in her throat. “He asked me out.”

Gilbert stopped tying the other end of the rope to the man’s fat wrist and looked up. “Um… what did you tell him? You didn’t actually…?”

“I said yes,” she snapped. “He’s a good guy. Good family. Good aspirations. He owns his own business. He’s a real adult, Gilbert. I'm getting my act together.”

“No one accused you of doing anything else. Just figured you wouldn’t sell out like that.”

“Shut up, you man child.”

He rolled his eyes and gave the rope one last tug. “I think we’re all good.” Elizabeta straightened up and looked at hm. One last thing to do. She rolled up her sleeves and dug her hands under the body, waiting for Gil to follow so they could roll the body into the water and out of their lives. “on three,” he said. “one, two…”

“AHHHHHH!”

For an instant, Elizabeta thought it was Gilbert screaming. Then the (not) dead body launched up and started spitting curses at them, arms flailing as he lunged for the closest living object, catching Gilbert by the neck.

“Ew! Get off!” he yelled, kicking the man in the leg.

“Hey!” Elizabeta bellowed, grabbing the guy by his little ponytail. Before he could respond, she drew back her arm and gave him a walloping punch right between the eyes.

“Damn!” Gilbert grinned, shoving the tub of lard away and kicking him hard in the gut when he tried to get up again.

She looked up at him, and after a moment of prolonged, intense eye contact, they grabbed at each other, throwing themselves into a kiss so passionate, it blew the memory of every kiss, every one-nightstand and every other woman right out of Gilbert’s head.

But what else could he think about with her hands in his hair, and his hands on her hips, and all the snaps and moans against their lips?

He pulled her close, tilting her back in the pouring rain like one of those stupid movies. They were drenched to the bone but a little water never hurt when it made the clothes between them just a little thinner.

And then they broke apart.

For a few seconds they just stood there, breathing the same air, Elizabeta still in his arms. Then she cursed and ran her thumbs down her nose. “take a step back Gil, and never speak of this again.” He opened his mouth, maybe to protest, maybe to insult her. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh trust me, nothing on this earth could make me chain myself to you. I’d rather go down with that dead man.”

“I think he’s just unconscious,” she said, shoving him away. “We should go before he gets back up.” Then as she started to stumble off through the mud, “We’ll tell Mr. Vargas we tossed him. He won’t tell anyone if he doesn’t want to be arrested for kidnapping.”

Gilbert would have argued that it would be easier to just drown him, that they might not come after them, but he chickened out at the thought of actually murdering someone and followed her over the sand dunes, back to the car.

  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  

**9:42 PM**

“Gilbert… Mr. Francis…”

“It’s just Francis.”

“Oh,” Antonio sighed, and cleared his throat. He reached out to lean a hand on the counter of Gilbert’s little bar, but rethought it when he caught the sheen of something pink and sticky spilled across the top. “It is rather late, and perhaps, you two should not drink.”

“You have a problem with liquor you little _schönling_?” Gilbert drawled. He was behind the counter, on his fourth beer and Antonio had long ago lost count of the shots he and Francis were throwing back.

The “bar” had a few other patrons floating around, but watching two grown men sob into their drinks wasn’t exactly good for business. Even shady and immoral business. “Alcohol is bad for your health.”

“You know what else is bad for your health? Women. I’m swearing off them!” Gilbert slammed his glass down, grin reckless and wild.

“I like the sound of that,” Francis hiccupped, eyes roving up and down his body. “You're a little too pale for me, mon ami.”

“Gross, Franny.”

“Guys, this is very illegal,” Antonio pipped up.

“Toni…”

“Antonio,” he snapped, eyeing Gilbert.

“Well now you're Toni! Mazel tov.” He high-fived Francis, missing the first time and only barely hitting the mark the second. “Anyways, Toni, we’re just blowing off steam. Francis failed Tino – and believe me, he’s lucky he’s still alive. The little guy can pack a punch…

“That cherub faced demon will be the end of us all.”

“Franny… SHHH,” Gilbert slurred, wide grin breaking across his face, “and I’m… dealing with some stuff.”

“He was rejected by sweet Elizabeta,” Francis giggled.

“Shut it Frenchy. I was not. We got into another fight. It was super stressful.” He flushed beat red when Francis started making kissing noises.

“I’d like to hang out amigos, but I need to set a good example for Lovino,” Antonio began, but the surprisingly sharp looks from both drunks silenced him.

“If you want Lovino to like you, codling is not the way to go, mon ami.”

“If you tell him to buy some goddamn flowers I'm gonna kill you, Francis,” Gilbert groaned.

“Not tonight, Gilly.” He said it with a giggle so evil it sent shivers up Antonio’s spine. “Close the bar and change your clothes, the three of us are going out.”

“No, no, no,” Antonio gulped. “I can't, that’s so immoral…”

“Immoral? Surely you joke,” Francis sneered, yanking Antonio’s heavy black trench coat off and tossing it across the bar. “live a little. One night, yes? It will impress your little foul-mouthed Italian. Ignore him and he will come running.”

“Oh I couldn’t…” Antonio said with a nervous smile, but all the while his eyes followed the whisky as they poured him out a shot. He looked at them, shifting nervously in his shoes. “Well, maybe just this once. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“My lips are sealed,” Gilbert said with an eye roll.

  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  

**9:56 PM**

“This is great! I feel amazing!” Antonio could take on the whole world. Whisky was like liquid courage.

 Francis and Gilbert were on his heels, whooping and cheering as they prowled down Main Street, kicking down trashcans and whistling at everything that maybe looked attractive.

“There’s a bar crawl happening down by the boardwalk!” Gilbert laughed. “And there will be BEER! It’s going to be awesome!”

“Cheri, why don’t you come along with us,” Francis called to a passing woman on the sidewalk. She shot them a dirty look and a one fingered salute before ducking into a restaurant.

“I think it’s starting in this bar up here,” Gilbert noted, checking his phone.

Music was spilling out onto the street over the light chatter of laughter and the clank of glasses. Colored lights were strung up over the entrance to the bar, open on all sides to the street, black metal tables shoved aside to make room for all the writhing young bodies in matching T-shirts, flashing advertisements for their involvement in the crawl.

“Hey,” Antonio began, after the fifth drink had been forced into his hand and they were making their way, along with the fifty other crawlers, to the next location, “you guys…” he hiccupped… “don’t happen to have Lovino’s number, do you?”

“Yeah sure, here you go,” Gilbert grinned, pulling it up on his phone.

“Perhaps that is not such a good idea,” Francis mumbled, pulling him off by the arm.

“Relax Frenchie, I'm just helping him out considering we’ve both fallen for heartless… evil… bitchy…”

“Maybe you should have told the poor girl about your feeling long ago instead of acting like a child and…”

“Who said anything about a GIRL. Elizabeta’s not a girl… I mean… I'm not in love with anyone OLD MAN!” Gilbert was red in the face and Antonio couldn’t stop laughing. “don’t you have like, a teenage kid?”

“Lies! I assume you refer to my employee, Mathieu?” he scowled. “he is my _half-brother_. I practically raised him.”

“If you say so, Gramps,” Gilbert cackled.

“Oh, look, it’s Mr. Kirkland from across the street!” Antonio grinned, pointing to the darkest corner of the bar as they slid into the club. Sure enough, Arthur was slumped against the wall in his seat, forcing down another beer.

“Well if you feel that way _Gilbert_ then I shall go and fraternize with people my own age,” Francis purred, and slipped away, hair flouncing around as he made his way toward Arthur.

“This is so not awesome you pansy, don’t just leave us!” Gilbert called after him, and a few bar crawlers turned to stare.

“Pansies are the perfect flower for abandoning your drunk friends!” he called back over his shoulder.

  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  

**10:33 PM**

By the time Gilbert realized that continuously buying Antonio drinks was a bad idea, they had already hit three more bars. Francis had somehow managed to drag Arthur along, bitching and screaming at each other through every goddamn venue, debating who betrayed Tino more.

Finally, Gilbert had decided on taking Antonio outside, if not to sober him up a little, then just to have a smoke… well, Gilbert was smoking, Antonio was a little too drunk and way too new at this to do anything other than choke on the cigarettes they took from Francis when he and Arthur got physical.

And by physical, he meant they started making out so hard all the college kids with their fake IDs scattered.

“Why are… why are they going to the bathroom together?” Antonio slurred, looking back into the bar as Francis practically chased Arthur into the men’s room.

“Um…” Gilbert laughed, watching Antonio slump against the brick exterior, swaying a little to the slosh of the ocean and the thump of the music, “They’re probably gonna be sick… at the same time…”

“Oh. Makes sense.” He tossed the cigarette out, and Gilbert was a little surprised he hadn’t launched into some spiel about how tobacco was bad and all that jazz. “Hey! Lovino!”

He looked up to see that Antonio was pointing to a teenager, definitely not Lovino but obviously related, walking out of a late-night ice cream parlor across the street one hand gripping a sticky cone of melting rocky road, the other wrapped around the shoulder of a girl with pigtails. “Oh, that’s his little brother, Alphonse or something.”

But Antonio wasn’t listening as he launched himself at the couple.

“Lovi!” he sobbed, arms wrapping around Alphonse’s waist.

Gilbert figured he’d scream like is brothers and run away, but this one, at least in front of his little girlfriend, had some guts. He kicked Antonio off, jumping in front of the girl. “I’ve got this Wendy, you go grab that police man we saw down the street.”

And with that, Gilbert pried Antonio away. “Stop crying Toni that’s not Lovino!”

“Lovi, I love you so much, why do you hate me!”

“What weirdos,” Wendy snorted. “I’ll be right back, Babe.” She was halfway down the street, waving her arms at an approaching officer. “Hey, we need some help!”

“Let’s go! Run!” Gilbert gasped, breezing past Francis as a tear-stained Arthur chased him out of the bar, waving a toilet plunger over his head and screaming that he was a pervert.

They made it halfway down the street too. They might have been home free… if Gilbert hadn’t caught site of Roderick’s front door, next to the entrance of his overrated prissy little shop.

“Asshole!” he cackled, stumbling to a messy stop. “Take this!” he must’ve hit the flower pot harder than he thought. He didn’t even feel anything, but the ceramic plantar exploded into a million tiny pieces, and the lights above the shop flickered on. Toni and Francis were standing in the doorway of another club, holding back fits of laughter.

“Amigo! Over here!” Antonio whispered, motioning at him to run. Well, he tried to whisper it. It came out as a raspy yell.

And just as he heard footsteps thundering down the stairs, Gilbert dove into the safety of a packed club, lingering in the door for a few minutes, slumped against Francis and Antonio, giggling so hard he felt his ribs rattle, before slipping into the party and tripping over a big muscled blonde man. “Oi, watch it mate!”

“Ah, shut it, Brit,” Gilbert scowled, pushing past him.

“Hey! Don’t call me British. I’m from _Oz_.”

“Whatever Dorothy.” He briefly wondered where his friends went, and spotted them at the bar next to… oh, hey, Matthias was here.

And he looked mad.

“Don’t say hi to me! You stalked me and Lukas through the woods. Like full-on chased us, trying to get us to join your fruity little club!” he yelled, jabbing a finger into Antonio’s chest. The Spaniard looked way too drunk to understand.

“Matt, please…” a very intoxicated, and very tired looking Lukas grumbled from Matthias’ other side.

“And now you show up drunk and try to talk to me? Get out of here, man!” he went on.

“Hey, albino! I was talking to you!” the Brit… whatever, the Aussie… hiccupped, grabbing Gilbert by the shoulder.

“Yeah, cool,” he snorted, shoving him away.

And what happened next would forever be a blur of flying drinks and tumbling chairs. Matthias would say Antonio threw the first punch, Francis would hold that it was Matthias, and Lukas would say that Gilbert and Kyle came crashing over in mid-fist fight and instigated the whole thing.

The place lit up like a scene from the movies. Everyone was throwing punches. It was only missing the cheesy music, the bartender would laugh. And all the other bar patrons would say it was the most entertaining thing they had seen in a _long_ time.

The police didn’t think so.

  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  

**12:59 AM**

“Does my nose look broken? Be honest.” Francis looked like he was about to cry.

“For the last time, you are the only one who didn’t get punched,” Matthias slurred through a split lip.

“Then why am I here in this dirty little cell with you people?” he huffed, and if Lukas hadn’t fallen asleep on the bench in their cell, he would have rolled his eyes.

The officer babysitting them slumped back into the room and pointed to Gilbert. “Just got off the phone with your brother. You’re staying the night.”

“What!”

“I’m not happy about it either, but he said you had to learn a lesson this time,” he snorted, leaning back in his office chair and propping his feet up on his desk, next to a stack of papers with their names on it.

“Oh come on!”

“Hey man, I’ll bail you out, when my roommate get’s here…” Kyle slurred, leaning on Gilbert’s shoulder to stay upright. His nose was swollen and he had a cut running across his cheek. “You’re all right.”

“Yeah you too!” Gilbert winced when smiling made his black eye sting.

“I wonder what Arthur’s doing?” Francis sighed, staring up at the city jail’s flickering fluorescent lights.

“Probably passed out drunk in a gutter somewhere,” Lukas grumbled, rolling over on the bench. “Why did we even bother with that intervention last year?”

“We’ll get him again next Thanksgiving,” Matthias winked, prodding Lukas’ shoulder.

“We need to do this again,” Antonio grinned, stretching out on the dirty concrete floor.

And after a few seconds of silence, the other five drunks agreed.

“You need to let loose more often,” Matthias laughed, high fiving him. “And stop following people through the woods.”

“Will do, Amigo!”

The front door flew open, and the officer rushed to get his feet off his desk. “Matthias!”

“Oh dear god…” Francis gasped, as Tino stormed in, Berwald right on his heels.

“What the hell happened?” he scowled.

The officer cleared his throat and pointed to Gilbert. “Vandalism.” Then to Antonio, “Harassing children…”

“It was a case of mistaken identity,” Gilbert burped.

“Right,” the officer went on, and pointed to Francis, “Harassing adults.”

“I blame Tino.”

“And everyone else? For public intoxication and just generally causing a nuisance. Lucky for them, we’re pretty used to seeing Gilbert and his friends in here.” Francis winked and Matthias waved. “We don’t even charge them anymore.”

“That’s great, then, can we just take Lukas and leave the other one?” Tino scowled.

“Sure,” the officer shrugged. “Lukas wasn’t actually involved in the confrontation. He said he didn’t feel like going home, so we let him stay.”

“So since you two are here together…” Matthias began.

“Don’t,” Tino snapped.

“In the middle of the night…”

Berwald gave a warning grunt.

“That means…” he was so happy he was about to burst.

“That you’re the most annoying friend I have? Yeah, it does,” Tino growled.

Before the door opened, one wouldn’t think the level of anger could grow any more hostile… then Wellesley walked in, took one look at Berwald and said, “Oh, are your idiots in jail too?”

“Ya,” he nodded.

“Wes! Wes!” Kyle beamed, “I made a new friend!” he threw an arm around Gilbert. “If he was allowed to leave, he’d come stay the night with us!”

“Oh joy…” Wellesley muttered. “Maybe he’ll pay your half of the rent, too.”

“Like I said,” the officer coughed, “they’re all free to go, except Gilbert, as long as they have a ride home.”

“Yeah… sure,” Berwald spit.

“I for one, am staying with my friend… Gilbert!” Francis slurred, flipping his hair as the cell door was slid open.

“Me too!” Antonio announced, but most likely, he was too drunk to stand.

“Yeah!” Matthias cheered, but Lukas caught him by the ear.

“We did not make our friends drive all the way here to get us so you could make a statement. Get in the car.”

“Got it buddy!”

“Fine with me,” Tino scowled, and led the way back into the night. “Hey Matthias, Lukas, since you two totally owe me one…”

He looked back to see them frozen in place at the front steps of the county jail.

“How do you feel about attending a couple Censorship Society meetings?”

And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love the sheer horror on their faces.

 


	11. Coffee and Breakouts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the gap in posting. I've had a drama-filled, anxiety inducing-semester and i needed a month or two to recover before i got back into writing. But now I'm back in the swing of things and hopefully there will never be a gap between chapters like that again. I'll try to update every two weeks or so to make up for it. A big thanks to everyone who commented and guilted me into getting this done!

“So, like, go over it again with me. It’s a lot to take in.”

Emil frowned at Leon, sitting across from him in the back of Tino’s store. “Okay. Where do you want me to begin?”

“Who’s he?”

Emil glanced over at Sadik, a pair of masked eyes peering through the slot in the door of his makeshift cell, munching happily on the crackers they’d brought him. “Well, I'm not totally sure, because Feliks didn’t tell me everything, but I’ll start from the beginning.”

“We have time. Yao’s out grocery shopping so I’m taking an extended break.”

“Well, it all started when Sadik here broke into Tino’s Tours because…?” he motioned to the Turk.

“Because Bella wouldn’t speak to me and we’re _meant_ to be together. So obviously breaking into Tino’s Tours with a gun was the only way to win her heart.”

“ _Obviously_ ,” Emil snorted.

“ _Aww_ , love,” Leon added.

“Anyway. So he bursts in waving a gun around and you know how Tino likes to employ crazy people like Elizabeta and Gilbert? Well Ivan beat him up and stuck him back here.”

“That Russian kid’s _nuts_. Absolutely crazy,” Sadik added.

“Let me finish old man,” Emil scowled. “So yeah, Ivan takes him down, and nobody wants to tick off all the drug kingpins around the city, so they’re keeping him back here until they figure out a better way. Also because the police are apparently controlled by the drug trade.”

“Well obviously,” Leon nodded.

“So Tino, who’s just starting a relationship with this accountant, Berwald, is totally stressed out about it. And he keeps going on really awkward dates. Meanwhile, Ivan’s trying to take over all the stores on the block. And like, no one notices it, but it’s so freaking obvious, you know? Meanwhile, me and my brother just inherited a theater but we’re in competition with the one down the street, which, by the way, is run by two chemists from Eastern Europe, who may or may not be running a meth lab. And don’t get me started on the Censorship Society.”

“Yeah what happened with them again?” Leon wondered.

“Matthias was driving me and Lukas home and our car broke down in the woods. Then this guy starts chasing us. Turns out he worked for them and he just wanted to hand out some pamphlets. Tino ended up hiring him later.”

“But those guys are crazy too,” Sadik interrupted. “They heckle Tino and they want make Main Street _normal_.”

“Yeah, I know. They’re the guys who beat up Feliks and tried to burn down the store,” Leon nodded.

“I spent a day in the cellar after that,” Sadik noted.

“Yeah and Francis and Arthur went undercover at one of their meetings, but got kicked out before they found anything. Then there’s Feliciano, who’s getting all chummy with a cop, who can't know about the old man here. And there’s the usual drama. Francis and Arthur hate each other but they love each other. Elizabeta’s dating the music snob from down the street, and Gilbert’s insanely jealous. Oh, Gilbert and Elizabeta were almost kidnapped – probably from the drug cartels. They also ambushed Tino, Arthur and Vlad in an abandon building. Oh yeah and Tino just can’t make things move forward with Berwald.”

“He’s far too awkward for a normal relationship anyway,” Leon nodded.

“It’s his own fault,” Sadik agreed.

Bang! The door leading into the store burst open. A moment passed. Probably someone looking for stock. Then, Gilbert rounded the crates they were sitting behind, glancing back over his shoulder before he looked forward and froze.

“What are you doing here?”

“Talking to our new friend,” Emil gulped, pointing to Sadik.

Gilbert swallowed. “You kids need to go. Tino’s out for my head and it’s not gonna be pretty. When he finds out you know…”

“We, like, probably won’t tell anyone,” Leon shrugged.

“No, you have to go.”

Emil stood up and stretched his legs. “I don’t really see why you're keeping some geezer locked up.” He reached out to tap the lock on Sadik’s door.

“Leave it brat.”

Emil bit down on his lip. Until that moment, he had no plans of unlocking the cell… but if Gilbert wanted to be a giant asshole…

Who was he but a humble servant of Karma?

Click. The lock slid open with no resistance or issue. Gilbert paled. Paled even more than usual. Sadik kicked the door open. “Kid…” his accent made his voice sound even louder. “You got any clue what you’ve done?”

“Yeah but I don’t really believe in consequences,” he shrugged. “I'm kind of a sociopath.”

“That’s what Yao says about me,” Leon snorted.

  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  

“I should have hitched a ride home with Tino,” Francis grumbled as he dragged his feet down the street, Gilbert at his side. His head was pounding from last night’s bar crawl and his back was stiff from eight hours on a jail bench. “Thank god that idiot Toni went home. If I had to put up with him this morning I’d lose my mind.”

“Don’t start with me Francis,” Gilbert scowled, stumbling over the patchwork cobblestone of Main Street. “You made us sleep on the floor. It was totally gross.”

“If my hair isn’t kept at a certain elevation it falls out.”

“Lying French…” Gilbert’s angry grumbling was cut off as they neared Francis’ Flowers, where Matthew was outside fitting peonies onto the already obnoxious cart. “Hey Francis… when did you change your clothes?”

“What are you saying now Gil?”

“You weren’t wearing those pants or that shirt last night.”

“Your point, mon ami?” he turned in the doorway to his store and cocked an eyebrow.

Gilbert had to physically take a breath to stop himself from throwing Francis and his stupid cart into oncoming traffic. “Where and when did you change into a completely new outfit while we were locked up together in jail?”

“Gilbert. I’m disappointed. How dare you assume that I’m some sort of amateur?” He narrowed his eyes and tossed his hair before stepping back into the shadows of his building.

He waited a minute, there on the curb, before he tried to convince himself that facing Elizabeta and Tino was far better than losing his job. It didn’t work.

“Every time he goes out with you he gets arrested, you freak.”

The voice was so soft he almost didn’t hear it. Matthew was glaring at him from the flower cart. “Not my fault I’m too awesome to handle.”

The kid burst out laughing – actually laughing at Gilbert like he wasn’t the most awesome person in the universe, leaving him with no choice but to save his pride my rolling his eye and walking the rest of the way to Tino’s Tours grumbling under his breath.

The day could have gone on like normal. It could have been just fine. His hangover could have faded and life would have returned to its baseline… until he stepped through the front doors. Both Vargas brothers, with near identical glowers, and Elizabeta, were standing behind the counter waiting for him. Oh god it was a trap…

“Hey, guys…”

“Don’t _hey guys_ me you cretin,” Lovino snapped. “I can’t go a single night without hearing about you and your friends terrorizing the neighborhood. That bad wrap falls on us. And who gave you permission to start going around with that crazy ass Spaniard. I keep telling you people, touchy-feely bastard is going to be the death of us all.”

“Ooh, you’re in trouble,” Feliks sang from where he was propped up by the door on a fold out chair, his crutches beside him.

“Lovino’s right,” Feliciano said, crossing his arms as Gilbert tried to avoid eye contact. “Antonio spent the night harassing our younger brother and his little girlfriend.”

“Yeah because he thought it was me,” Lovino growled. “That’s weird. Who the fuck does that? Like, come on!”

“Guys I’m sorry. I learned my lesson. I spent the night in jail. Just let me be while I deal with this very awesome hang over.”

“Learned your lesson my ass,” Elizabeta snapped. The Vargas brothers turned to her, waiting for an explanation or a lecture, but she only bit her lip and stormed over to where Torris and Bella were pretending to flip though papers at her desk, making them both jump as she sat down heavily and turned her back to the room.

“Oh god, Tino’s walking down the street!” Feliks squealed, scrambling for his crutches.

The room was silent. Even Lovino looked stricken. “No…” he whispered. “He’s early.”

“He might have stayed over Berwald’s… does he live around here?”

“Just give him his coffee and steer clear of Gilbert,” Bella piped up. “As long as we’re not in the line of fire we’ll be fine.” She could practically hear Torris’ knees knocking in fear.

“I sent Alfred out to get the coffee. He’s not back yet,” Lovino gulped.

“Hey, someone help me,” Felix yelped, still fighting to stand up. “I can’t get out of this chair.”

“What do you mean there’s no coffee,” Elizabeta snapped, turning in her seat to look back at them.”

“I mean we don’t have any goddamn coffee woman!” Lovino yelled, pulling at his hair as he looked around the room. “We’ll throw Gilbert to him as a sacrifice.” Feliciano was slowly sinking down in his chair until he was fully beneath the desk.

“Save yourself!” Gilbert gasped. Before anyone could grab him, he slipped out of their reach and scrambled into the back of the store.

“He’s getting closer,” Feliks gasped.

And for a few long seconds, the room froze.

Then the door swung open and Alfred burst in, a gallon of fresh coffee under his arm. “Have no fear the hero is here!”

“Where the hell have you been?” Lovino snarled as he hurried to pour it out into Tino’s oversized mug.

“The commie couldn’t decide on what doughnuts to get,” he sighed, sitting in the chair beside Tino’s desk.

“I refuse to eat anything that has been injected with jelly,” Ivan smiled as he followed Al in with two boxes of doughnuts.

“I would have eaten it,” he snapped back.

“Not to alarm anyone,” Feliks snapped, “but here he comes…”

The little bell above the door chimed.

Elizabeta, Torris and Alfred made a mad dash to hide behind the shelves of souvenirs as Bella lowered her head and pretended to work. Lovino joined his brother beneath the desk as Ivan tried to flatten his massive form up against the wall behind the door and Feliks, unable to get up with his cast hindering him, closed his eyes and covered his head.

Tino stormed in, right past Feliks, smacking Ivan with the door as he trudged to his desk, eyes as dark and heavy as the bags beneath them. He slumped into his chair, throwing his bag onto the floor with a bang that made Bella jump.

The silence stretched on.

“Do something!” Lovino growled, and Feliciano yelped before popping his head up above the counter and nudging the giant cup toward Tino.

“Here you go boss…” he squealed again as Tino snatched the mug from his hands and threw it back.

“Thanks Feli, but I already had my coffee this morning,” he sighed, and Alfred, who had stuck his head out to make sure it was safe, ducked down again. “I'm just going to have to kill Gilbert. There’s no way around it. He has to die.”

“Oh, okay… well, he’s hiding from you in the back room.”

“Perfect. If someone comes in, tell them the sound of someone being murdered is just a horror movie playing in the back.”

“Will do boss,” Feliciano sighed as Tino put down the mug and started for the back.

“What exactly happened last night?” Alfred snorted as everyone emerged from their hiding spots to meet Ivan and the doughnuts at the front desk.

“Apparently, he and Antonio went on a drunken rampage with the Dane next door,” Lovino snorted, dipping a chocolate glaze into Tino’s vacated coffee. “Wrecked Main Street, vandalized the music store then got arrested. Called up Tino on his date night and made him drive down to the police station.” He flicked his eyes to the back door then looked around at all of them again. “Interrupted a moment between him and Berwald.”

Alfred whistled as he scarfed down a Bavarian crème. “Damn. Gilbert better run.”

“Perhaps there is a bigger problem than just alcohol on this street,” Ivan mumbled, almost to himself.

“Yeah, and it needs years of therapy,” Elizabeta snorted.

“I heard they had to scrape Arthur from across the street off the pavement last night,” Bella added. “That’s why his store’s not open.”

“Dude, he needs help.”

“Like totally.” Feliks finally managed to yank himself free of his fold out chair and hobbled over to the others.

The door chimed again as Mathias pranced in, beaming like the goddamn sun. “I hate morning people,” Lovino groaned as they all spun to look at him.

“Hey guys I'm here looking for Emil. Have any of you…” He was cut off by a shriek from the back room. “Never mind I’ll come back later.”

“That was Mr. Tino,” Ivan noted when Matthias was gone. “Perhaps we should check on the situation…”

“I’ve got it,” Elizabeta growled, snatching the spear from the suit of armor before heading to the back.

She hadn’t even put a hand on the door before Tino shoved it open, eyes wide, face even paler than usual. “Guys… the… stray cat is missing.” Bella sunk down into her chair, hand on her chest, face warped with fear. “I think he has Gilbert.”

  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  

“Aren’t you two a little calm considering what’s happening?” Gilbert spat through grit teeth, hands on the wheel of his precious car. Sadik was in the passenger seat, his handgun, lifted from a sealed crate in the back closet where Tino hid it, aimed at Gil’s head.

“It’s about time something exciting happened,” Leon shrugged.

“Yeah I’m so bored,” Emil agreed, “I wish Feliks was here.”

“Shut up or I shoot,” Sadik snarled. This little road trip was getting old fast. He Gilbert was going to beat the snot out of Emil once this was all over. If they survived the day. And Leon was next to him in the back seat. And to top it off, they were now his responsibility as the sole responsible (and very awesome) adult on bored.

Ugh. He hated being responsible for the lives of others. It never turned out well.

“You kids have to see the danger here,” Gilbert gulped, turning a little too fast around a corner.

“Danger’s just another form of fun,” Emil drawled, staring out the window of the passing buildings. “And besides – no one would really care if I was gone. Lukas is always too busy.”

“Jesus Emil!” Gilbert had to force his eyes back on the road.

“Not dead, stupid, just… out.”

“Turn here,” Sadik snapped, pointing down a rather dark and winding road as they neared the edge of town.

Gilbert’s grip on the wheel tightened as the streets became vaguely familiar. “You know, my brother’s a cop…”

“What did I say about shutting up?”

But Gilbert couldn’t hold himself back. “Where exactly are you taking us?”

A grin twisted across Sadik’s face. “Bella’s house, of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, be sure to hit the kudos button, and as usual please leave a comment of something you want to see happen!


	12. Nasturtiums and a River in Egypt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow so it's been forever since I updated this! Basically school was crushing the life out of me and I didn't know where I wanted this story to go, but I have a few new ideas and as always I take requests for future chapters, so if there's anything you want me to include, feel free to comment!  
> Anyway, I will be posting for this story again (expect updates every month or so), and I'll probably gradually fix up some of the previous chapters (you can tell I wrote and posted them in the middle of the night). For anyone who was reading this and wants a summary since its been so long, there's one in the first section of the last chapter. Thanks so much to everyone who left Kudos and comments, and a special thanks to anyone who's still reading this after a year and a half long hiatus!

“So what now?” Lovino was sitting up on Tino’s desk as he watched his boss pace the lobby, rapid footsteps rattling the shelves. Hana pranced along, nipping at his heels, but he was so far gone he couldn’t even find the energy to shoe her away. The rest of the staff, minus Antonio, who was nursing a hangover in a gutter somewhere, were quiet, staring at their shoes and scratching at their necks. “If he opens his fat mouth we could very easily go to prison.”

“He has Gilbert’s car,” Elizabeta muttered.  

“Which means he could be anywhere. How long was he gone before we noticed? Ten minutes?” Alfred said. “They could be out of town by now.”

“He’s right, by the time we can pull the security footage and figure out which way they went, we’ll never catch them,” Torris nodded. The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by Tino’s pacing.

“We have security cameras?” Feliks wondered.

“Yeah,” Tino nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket to bring up the feed. “Only two. I use them to make sure no one steals anything.” He held it up so they could see the screen, black and white and flickering.

“Why are they only pointed at the doors to Mathias’s shop and Yao’s restaurant?” Elizabeta asked, chewing her lip, eyes set on the front window.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tino snorted.

“Hey,” Lovino said, crossing his arms and scrunching his eyebrows together, “boss.” Tino stopped pacing and looked up at him. “Do you still have all the keys to the tour busses chipped?”

“You chip the keys to the busses?” Elizabeta looked slightly more alarmed now.

“Remember when Alfred kept losing them?” Tino wondered.

“No,” Alfred interjected.

“I bought these little clips I could locate with my phone.” His eyebrows shot up. “Gil might have a set on him.”

There was more silence, followed by a sudden series of scrapes and bumps as everyone scrambled closer. Ivan elbowed Torris out of the way to get a better look at Tino’s phone screen as he pulled up the app.

“Well, out of the five sets of keys, three are here in Tino’s Tours, one is… in the middle of the Indian Ocean…” He paused and briefly considered asking, but ultimately decided he didn’t want to know. “And one, is currently moving towards…”

His voice fell away. Feliciano cleared his throat and Alfred stiffened.

“My neighborhood,” Bella swallowed.

More silence. Feliks shifted his weight a little. “Well, let’s go beat the shit out of him.”

Elizabeta put a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe you should stay here while we beat the shit out of him.”

“I can hit him with my crutches.”

“She’s right. I’ll stay here and watch the shop and Feliks and probably Bella,” Lovino said, sweating noticeably and looking only slightly more shaken then Bella.

“Maybe we should figure this out quick because I’m getting real tired of this guy stalking my girlfriend,” Alfred bristled. “I say we go to Bella’s house and… and…”

“Yes?” Ivan said, lips curling into a smile, “what is it we should do Alfred?”

“And we should… um…” And Tino was surprised steam wasn’t coming out of his ears.

“Go on,” Ivan snorted.

Al glared at him before slamming his first into Tino’s desk. Lovino made a choking sound that was probably a silent scream and launched himself up onto his feet. “Let’s… let’s go beat the shit out of him!”

“Yeah!” Elizabeta cheered. “Let’s go beat up Gilbert!”

“No, Sadik,” Torris whispered to her, “We’re going to go beat up Sadik.”

“Let’s go beat up Sadik and Gilbert!” she amended.

“Like, if only someone thought of that earlier,” Feliks added.

All eyes turned to Tino. He raised an eyebrow and glanced at Hana as she poked her head out from behind his desk, ears flattened against her fluffy white fur. “Good enough!” And the staff cheered.

“I’ll drive!” Alfred offered, holding up his keys.

“Right. And I’ll stay here,” Lovino agreed.

“No, Fratello, you should go. You’re so brave and macho,” Feli cooed. “I’ll stay here and make sure Feliks is okay.”

“But, like, I want to go too.” Tino felt a twitch starting up in his left eye at the sight of Feliks leg in a cast, struggling to stand on crutches, begging to help them beat the shit out of a drug dealer.

Wow. Tino’s life was really spiraling.

“Feliks,” Torris started, and he looked like had an argument cued up before he sighed and shrugged, “no.”

“I’m not going,” Lovino scowled. “Fuck that. I’m the only one who knows how to run the shop.”

“But Lovi the brother with the best genes should stay. You know, to make sure future generations of our family have the best shot.”

“Yeah, so you go. I’m staying right fucking here.” Tino’s eye was definitely twitching now. Noticeably.

“But what if something happens? You’d be left alone with grandpa and Alphonse, and you can’t stand being around them.” 

“That’s true, and that sounds like hell, but I can always walk into the ocean with weights in my pockets later if I start regretting my decision to live.”

“Maybe we should focus on the topic at hand, da?” Ivan snapped. “Or perhaps, Feli, you can call your handsome police officer.”

“And maybe you can call your sister and her fruity little censorship club,” Lovino snarled. The room suddenly felt very cold. Torris was backing away slowly. Even Alfred looked like he had no comment.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Tino said, voice calm and quiet. It was enough to scare everyone into silence. Torris was shaking harder than Bella. “Lovino and Feliciano, stay here and run the shop. Feliks, you too. Don’t give me that look there’s no room in Al’s truck. Torris I need you to run the morning tours.” Torris looked beyond relived. “When Antonio gets here, he’ll drive.”

“What if he’s still drunk?” Lovino wondered. “What if he never shows up and I have to fire his degenerate ass.”

Tino leveled a glare at him. “Figure it out.” He cleared his throat. “Alright people, we’re running a business here, let’s figure this out. Oh, and Lovi, if anyone asks about Jet skiing or anything, tell them we’re booked until the afternoon.”

“You’re going to make Gilbert work today?” Lovino asked. “Geez boss, I know you’re a hard ass but that’s a little harsh don’t you think?”

“No,” Tino shrugged, watching as Elizabeta grabbed the spear from the suit of armor and Alfred cracked his knuckles.

“That’s not harsh,” Ivan smiled. “Harsh would be burying him up to his neck in gravel then…”

“I’m going too,” Bella announced, grabbing the staple recover from her desk. “I’m not letting this creep scare me anymore!”

“You go get him girl!” Feliks cheered. “Make him bleed!”

“Yeah!” Alfred agreed. “I’ve got my bat in my truck, let’s mess him up, baby.”

“Now that we’re all in agreement let’s get going!” Tino said, turning and storming right out the door. Nothing could stop him now. He was on a war path. He was going to save Gilbert then probably kill him. He was…

Going to walk right into Berwald’s chest.

“H’llo Tino,” he nodded, staring down at him with that glare (was it weird that Tino was starting to find it hot? Yes? No? Maybe it was just how hyped up he was at the moment).

“Hey Ber,” he said, forcing himself to stay calm, to not blush.

“I was wonder’n if ya w’nted to go out to l’nch?” he grumbled.

“Oh,” Tino began, scratching at the back of his head. “Gee…” Alfred, Bella, Elizabeta and Ivan were already piling into Al’s truck, windows down so they could listen in to his freefalling relationship. He took a breath. “You know what Berwald, I can’t right now but later, let’s go out for drinks. I’ll pick you up at eight. Okay?”

Berwald just looked at him. “Okay.”

Tino grinned, the first real smile on his face in days felt unusual but not unpleasant. “Great.” He looked past Berwald at Matthias. “And can you remind Matt and Lukas that they’ll be going to the Censorship society meeting tonight? Don’t give in, no matter how much they beg.” And he stood up on his toes and planted a kiss on Berwald’s lips, closed mouthed and quick, but enough to make his cheeks go red even though his expression didn’t change.

He slipped past him, and he had his hand on the passenger door to Al’s truck when a shadow fell over him, smelling faintly of roses. “Bonjour Tino,” Francis smiled, looking completely refreshed and not hung over at all, like sleeping on a jail bench was as comfortable as his own bed (he spent enough time with Gil so who knew where he spent most of his nights?) “I would just like to apologize for my behavior last night. I got out of hand. It won’t happen again, I promise.” He had his cart parked on the sidewalk, immediately in front of Yao’s front door. Tino was sorry he’s miss that confrontation.

“Thanks Francis. And don’t worry about it. I’ve got bigger things to worry about, you know?”

“Very true. As a token of good will though, I’d like to give you something.” He was standing very close now, and Tino would be lying to say he wasn’t at least a little nervous of what Francis was implying.

“Yes?”

“It’s BUY NINE get one and a half FREE on Nasturtiums! WHILE SUPPLIES LAST!”

“Yeah that’s what I thought!” Tino almost yelled as Alfred started the truck and laid on the horn. Tino pointed to Berwald, standing there on the sidewalk with his beet red face. “You know Francis, why don’t you tell Berwald about it. He’d love to hear about your flowers, but I have to go.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Are we there yet?”

“No,” Sadik said, cheerfully, watching the town fly by outside Gilbert’s car.

“Try asking again,” Leon whispered to Emil.

“Are we there yet?”

“Um… no.”

“How about now?”

“Mein Gott shut up. We’re not there. We’re obviously not there yet,” Gilbert growled, his grip on the steering wheel getting tighter.

“Are you sure?” Emil wondered.

Sadik turned in his seat but kept his gun pointed at Gilbert. “No, try asking one more time,” he grinned.

“Don’t,” Gilbert warned.

“Are we there yet?”

Gilbert groaned. “Not yet,” Sadik said. “Turn left at the next light.”

They were driving through suburbs now, little pastel colored homes with yards and gardens full of pink flowers.

“Turn right. It’s the one on the corner.” Gilbert let out a breath. They were here. They were at Bella’s house and he hadn’t come up with an awesome way to stop Sadik yet. They had hours until she got home, maybe he could call the cops?

Ludwig, bailing him out again. It was so degrading he actually had to stop and wonder if he’d rather die than let his baby brother save him. He used to check under the brats bed for monsters and now… and now he needed him to play hero.

Sadik said nothing, but turned around and stared at Emil and Leon in the back seat, raising an eyebrow and waiting patiently. Gilbert eyed them in the rearview mirror. “Well?”

“What?” Emil asked, tilting his head to the side and meeting Sadik’s gaze.

“Nothing,” he snorted, and turned back around. “Now let’s get inside before someone sees us.”

“So why do you wear that mask?” Emil wondered.

“Yeah,” Leon nodded, “it totally doesn’t cover your whole face. Everyone, like, knows it’s you.”

“That’s not important,” Sadik replied, “the important thing is that we get into the house before we’re seen.”

“She knows we’re gone by now,” Gilbert tried hands still on the wheel. He’d have to use his obviously superior intellect to talk his way out of this. “And Bella knows what my car looks like, so she’ll pull up and know we’re here.”

“Oh, we’re not waiting for Bella,” Sadik said. Then, “Damn it, we’re too late. Everyone down.” He slid down in his seat, keeping his right arm twisted so the gun was still aimed at Gilbert.

Gilbert just sat there and Emil and Leon straightened up to get a better look at what was happening outside Bella’s house. “Wow look at that car,” Leon grinned as a white Mustang turned fast into the house’s driveway.

“It’s Tim,” Gilbert whispered. The Mustang’s engine was still running, and Tim was sitting there, listening to the man in his passenger seat speak. “That’s who we’ve been waiting for.”

“Obviously,” Sadik shrugged.

“Nothing about any of this is obvious.”

“He’s with that guy from the theater down the street,” Emil noted. “Danny or Denial or something.”

“Danail,” Gilbert nodded. He and the Romanian kid owned the theater across the street from Tino’s Tours. He’d be surprised but, like, Tino caught one of them in an abandon building crying after being roughed up by drug dealers. And there was that time Matthias overhead two guys in a shack in the woods referring to them as “chemists” so, really, all roads pointed to them working with the drug dealers.

“So,” he began, “not that I care, but whose side is Tim on?” Gilbert knew the guy was sketchy, everyone knew that, but he was Bella’s brother and Gilbert wasn’t exactly sure where he stood in any of this.

“Not mine,” Sadik said, which couldn’t be good.

“And Danail?” Danail looked afraid, sitting in the passenger seat of Tim’s Mustang, hitting his hand with his fist for emphasis as he spoke.

Behind his mask, Sadik’s eyes narrowed. “He’s supposed to be on my side, but… huh. That little traitor. He owes Gupta all that money and he goes crawling to the other side.”

“Exactly how many sides are in this war?” Leon wondered. “Because there’s you. Then there’s Tim, and the Censorship Society.”

“And Tino,” Sadik shrugged.

“Guys,” Emil started.

“Don’t drag Tino into this,” Gilbert warned, trying not to look at the gun. Though Tino would definitely crush all of them. Including Gilbert, just for good measure.

“Hey,” Leon noted.

“Tino’s already in this, Gilbert,” Sadik scowled.

“Assholes!” Emil yelled, “Tim saw us. He’s coming over here.” Before Gilbert could even look up, someone opened Sadik’s door from the outside. “Oh, wait never mind. He’s here.”

Tim was standing there with his hair gelled back in a long, well-tailored coat and shoes that easily cost four months’ worth of Gilbert’s salary. “Sadik, I was wondering when you’d come crawling out of the gutter.” He paused, looked at the gun, looked at Gilbert, then looked at Leon and Emil in the back seat and smirked. “What? Are you here with hostages? Really?”

“Fuck yes really,” Sadik snorted, aiming the gun away from Gilbert and at Tim. “Now put your hands up and step back.”

Tim listed in his hands in a lack luster gesture of surrender and took a couple steps away from Gilbert’s car. “Now let’s not do anything rash, alright?”

Gilbert swallowed. Sadik had his back to him. Now was his chance. He could… he could…

He looked back at Leo and Emil, both picking at their nails like this was too boring for them. “Psst, kids,” he whispered. Emil glanced up then elbowed Leon.

“Get Danail,” Sadik was saying.

“Why?” Tim wondered.

“I said get him.”

Gilbert tried to motion with his eyes at Sadik’s seat, then when the kids just looked at him, he tried motioning with his hands, then at his own seat belt. And then finally when they still didn’t get it, he sighed and said, “Come on, I’m saying grab his seatbelt!”

Sadik turned, but it was too late, because Emil grabbed hold of the shoulder strap of Sadik’s seatbelt from behind, pulling it tight across his throat. Sadik lurched forward and Emil hit the back of his seat before Leon pulled him back and helped him hold the belt.

“Brats!” Sadik choked out, trying to twist around. Gilbert, who was too awesome for seatbelts and too amazing of a driver to ever need them, jumped out of his seat and grabbed Sadik’s wrists wrestling with him over the gun for a minute before Tim decided to stop standing there watching them and yanked the gun away.

Sadik finally got one wrist free before he elbowed Gilbert hard in the face and unbuckled his seatbelt, lunging out of the car at Tim. Emil yelped. Gilbert scrambled out of his seat and rounded the car just in time to see Tim point the gun at Sadik in defense. Gilbert closed his eyes as he watched Tim’s fingers curl around the trigger. Danail, standing near the Mustang, screamed.

And then there was nothing. No shot.

“There are no bullets in the gun,” Tim deadpanned.

“Tino took the bullets out,” Gilbert muttered, and it was like something inside him snapped. Or more accurately, like something broke free.

Next thing he knew Sadik was on the ground and Gilbert was punching him. “Taste my awesomeness you asshole! I’ll teach you to mess with Gilbert Beilschmidt!”

“Get off!” Sadik yelled, right before a diesel engine revved behind them and Alfred’s red pickup truck rolled up, running the curb and overturning the edge of Tim’s garden.

“My fucking Nasturtiums,” Tim scowled. “Do you have any idea how long it’ll take me to fix that?”

“Gilbert!” Elizabeta yelled, opening the back door and running to him. Gilbert froze and looked up. Geez, Tino had half the staff in the back of the truck. Speak of the Devil, he was getting out of the truck and walking towards them.

He must’ve been terrifying enough to people who didn’t spend a significant amount of time around him that he triggered some sort of fight or flight response in Sadik, who shoved Gilbert off and took off running down the street, pausing as he passed Danail. “I’ll get you traitor,” he snapped. Danail flinched but didn’t quite back down.

Gilbert stood and brushed the grass from his knees. What a wild week. “I just want everyone to know that I rescued those kids from that drug dealer!” he announced, pointing to his car where Leon and Emil were deep in discussion about a TV show.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive!” Elizabeta gasped, throwing her arms around him for a moment before she caught herself and stepped back. Gilbert thought about making a snarky remark but ultimately decided to just take it and hugged her back.

“Great,” Tino scowled, “now we have to go catch him before he calls the cops.”

Tim looked around before tucking the gun into his jeans, then caught site of his sister in the truck. “Bella, what are you doing here?” he growled.

“What am I doing here?” she scoffed, motioning to Danail, who looked like he might faint, standing there fanning himself with his hand.

Tim scratched the back of his neck. “If you don’t tell mom and dad I won’t kill you’re obnoxious boyfriend today?”

“Deal,” Bella nodded.

“Today?” Alfred asked.

“If you kill him I will help,” Ivan offered, and Alfred slid the driver’s seat back so Ivan had to pull his legs up to avoid being crushed.

Tino cleared his throat. “Gilbert, good to see you’re okay. Take the kids home. And don’t be late you have water ski lessons to teach later.” Leon flipped him off from the car and Emil stuck out his tongue.

“Tino, you can’t be serious.”

Tino put his hands on his hips and flipped his blonde hair. “You bet I am. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go catch that stray cat.” He opened the truck door again and Elizabeta climbed in, leaning out the back window with her spear.

“So what’s up with that?” Tim asked. “How do you know Sadik?”

Tino looked at him and blinked. “Oh hi Tim,” he grinned, “when did you get there?” Then, “well see you later.” Then he got back in the truck, shut the door and slapped the metal twice. “Let’s get him!”

“To victory!!!!” Alfred cackled, waving his baseball bat out the window as he hit the gas, sending them all bouncing down the street.

Tim looked at Gilbert then motioned at Danail, leaning on the Mustang with his hands in his hair. “Take him with you.”

“What?” Danail gasped. “We’re not done here. He’s going… when he reports back to Gupta and Hercules…”

“Later,” Tim snapped. “I’ll take care of it. Expect me by next week.”

“But, Tim…”

“Let’s go Denial!” Emil yelled, reaching forward to hit Gilbert’s car horn.

“Yeah, you’re not just a river in Egypt if you know what I mean,” Leon added.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comment anything you want me to include in the next couple chapters!


	13. Adventures in Accounting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the comments and suggestions on the last chapter! I am literally in shock over how many people are still reading this.   
> I meant to have this up earlier but the chapter ended up being WAY too long, so I'm splitting it up into a few chapters and I'll have the next part up in a week or so.

 

“Yeah, so Gilbert got a flat tire and I had to go help him out,” Tino said, elbow propped up on the bar counter. It was still sort of early, so the bar, dimly lit with amber lights hanging from wires, with heavy wooden long tables and dark floors, was fairly quiet and far cleaner than it would be by midnight. “Other than that my day was uneventful.”

Berwald stared, which looked like a glare but might have been any other emotion. All of Tino’s confidence had evaporated when he got home and realized all of his going out shirts had wine stains on them all in the exact same place. His heart was beating out of his chest. What if he got this far just to ruin it all? “Ya needed five p’ple to change a tire?”

“Yes,” he said, and if he stopped there, he could’ve just changed the subject, but instead he said, “We didn’t have a car jack, so we had to lift the car with our hands while Eliza changed the tire.” He should really go into grave digging with the hole he’d just thrown himself into.

“Ya lifted the car?”

“Yes.” Then, “No, not really, Ber. You should see you face, I can’t believe you bought that.” Berwald’s face hadn’t changed at all, but Tino wished he could see his own face. It was probably really picture worthy. “They were there for moral support.”

“Ya sh’ld stick w’th the first story. It’s funny.”

“Oh good you found it funny.” _I couldn’t tell._

“I ‘ave a question,” Berwald went on. He mumbled less when he had a drink or two, Tino noted. He didn’t have to speak loudly to be heard over the soft chatter coming from the room behind them. There were only a few people getting dinner and a drink with friends after a long, meaningless day at work and one guy with a beanie and a newspaper held up in front of his face.

“Yes?”

“Why do ya have a bl’ck eye? And why are ya knuckles band’ged?”

“Oh, that?” Tino said, and tried to keep smiling as he ran a hand through his hair. “That’s from, um…” he paused as someone slid into the seat behind him.

“Walked into a door eh?”

Tino swiveled around on his bar stool to look at the man, maybe in his mid-thirties, with caramel skin and a black goatee. When Tino just looked at him with a raised eyebrow, he smiled and stuck out his hand. “I know, I look different out of uniform. Fire Chief Gupta. I stopped your shop from burning down.”

“Oh, yeah! Thanks for that by the way.” He glanced back over his shoulder at Berwald.

“No problem, I’m just glad there was no lasting damage. I heard from a police officer friend of mine that you and Arthur Kirkland ran into some trouble in that abandon hospital outside of town,” Gupta said, and he was smiling, which was just kind of creepy.

“Yeah, we think they may have been drug addicts or dealers or something. Arthur’s putting in cameras to catch them.”

Gupta paused. “Oh. That’s… good.” There was something in his voice that felt… significant. The hairs on the back of Tino’s neck were standing up.

“I thought so. You know I have a friend on the force too. Who do you know?”

“I mean, I’m the fire chief so I know them all.”

Tino sipped his beer. “Right. I figured.”

“There have been a lot of emergencies on your end of main street recently. Nothing targeting your shop specifically, right?”

“Nope.” Tino’s voice was bland.

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah, positive.” Tino was getting uncomfortable with this whole conversation.

So was Gupta, apparently, because that was when he dropped the faux nice act and got nasty. He curled his lip, “I just thought maybe since someone attacked one of your tour guides they might have been targeting your business. By the way, is that where you walked into that door?”

Tino laughed then smiled cheerfully. “No, that happened somewhere else. The door tried to get away but I chased it down and put it back on its hinges if you know what I mean.”

Gupta blinked. Tino kept his face totally straight and stared into his eyes. “Um…” Gupta tried to look away, at the counter, at the lights above them. “Well, I’ll drink to that, I guess. Where’s the bar tender?”

There was a surprising lack of service here. Tino propped his elbow on the counter again and finished off his beer. “He’s asleep under the counter. If you listen closely, you can hear him snoring.”

Gupta frowned then leaned over the counter to look down at the shelf below, where there was a fully grown man curled up among the flattened cardboard beer boxes. “Hercules!”

The man jolted, hitting his head on the bottom of the counter so he rattled everyone’s drinks. “Oh, hello Gupta. What’s up?”

“I’m here about that code inspection.”

“Code inspection?”

“Code inspection.”

Hercules blinked before it seemed to click. “Oh. Okay. Code inspection. Right.”

Tino waved at Hercules as he tried to move out from behind the bar. “Before you go to your…” he glanced at the light above him, “inspection, can I get another beer?”

“Sure,” he smiled, reaching up to the rack over his head for a new glass.

“Actually,” Tino said quickly, “can I get a bottle? Thanks.” He watched leave out the front door before he turned around to look at Berwald, and god, if he thought his normal face was scary, his angry face was the stuff of nightmares. He swallowed audibly. “What?”

“S’weird,” he grunted. “I do the taxes for th’s bar. They don’ make don’tions to the fire dep’rtment.”

“Okay… and?” Tino wasn’t sure why his skin was prickling and he was suddenly sweating.

“Most of Main Str’t does. Most shops in town.” He paused. Tino shrugged, because he didn’t know what he was getting at, but he didn’t like it. “I also do the taxes for the Fire Dep’rtment. They don’ receive anythin’ close to that amount in don’tions.”

“I don’t make donations to the fire department.”

“And yer shop alm’st burned down.”

“Yeah but…” But that was Gilbert. And probably Alfred. Evil and stupid were two very different things. “Honestly, I’m pretty sure I know what caused that. What are you getting at?”

Berwald sipped his beer and hunched forward on the counter. “J’st a theory I’ve been w’rking on for a while. Fire chief makes ev’ryone pay for his prot’ction. Maybe uses the don’tions to launder money.”

“So extortion?”

“Prob’bly.”

It felt like Tino was right on the edge of something. “Who else donates to the fire department? Like, specifically.”

“Well, Matthias m’kes large contr’butions. But he ‘akes em dir’ctly to the town ev’ry year.”

“I know, it’s so he can see his own face in the paper when they announce it.”

“His money is actually goin’ to the fire and police dep’rtments. Lukas’ grandf’ther made yearly don’tions before…”

“Before,” Tino nodded.

“Don’t know ‘bout that oth’r theater, or ‘bout the Chinese restaur’nt.”

“Yao doesn’t believe in accountants. Or banks. He thinks they’re a scam. And that other theater is new but…” he stopped.

“But ya found one of the own’rs in a weird s’tuation.”

“Matthias thinks Vlad and Danail are helping the gangs make and sell drugs.” Tino strongly suspected that they might just owe one of the dealers money but he supposed anything was possible.

Berwald snorted. “Matthias is insane.”

“That’s true. Who else donates?” Tino was a little afraid to hear the answer.

“The flower sh’p doesn’t. Rodrick does, so do the two bars d’wn the street fr’m you. And the groc’ry store.”

Tino took a swig of his beer and pursed his lips. “You do the accounting for the whole town, huh?”

“I’m the best.”

“Right. Who else?”

“Arthur Kirkl’nd does.”

Tino’s brow furrowed. Okay, he wasn’t expecting that. He literally saw Arthur every day. Why wouldn’t he mention that? “But I’ve been running a business on Main Street for years and no one’s ever approached me.” It might’ve been Bella, but honestly she’s only been working for him for a year and a half. Okay, so maybe he did employ some frightening and confusing people, but honestly it kind of hurt to know he was the only business in town not being extorted.

Unless…

As if the universe was reading his mind, at that moment, the front door opened and Ludwig stepped in, holding it open for Feliciano. “You know, one of my employees comes from a police family. Think maybe they’ve been protecting us?”

Berwald shrugged just as Feliciano waved, sliding into a booth on the far side of the room. Tino waved back and grinned. “Hey Ber, I’ve got a feeling we should leave before…”

“Not so fast you brother corrupting bastard!” Tino winced as the man with the newspaper threw it down and yanked off his hat to reveal (shockingly) that it was Lovino.

Tino groaned. Feliciano threw his hands over his head. Ludwig stayed impressively calm.

“Lovino,” Feli started, motioning around wildly, “you can’t keep doing this. I’m tired of seeing you get kicked out of every bar and restaurant in town.

“Stay out of it!” Lovino growled, marching toward their table.

“Stay out of it? How can I stay out of it? I’m on a date. You stay out of it!” Feliciano was on his feet now and Tino was trying to remember if he’d ever seen the two get into a physical fight.

Heads were turning now, people were whispering and pointing. Lovino jammed his hand into the water of a woman in business clothes getting diner with her friends and flung an ice cube at Feliciano as he got closer to their table.

Feliciano flinched then looked down at the wet spot on his shirt. “This was dry-clean only you monster!”

“Perhaps we should leave,” Ludwig started, but it was too late. Feliciano snatched the ketchup bottle off the same table and squeezed, leaving a bright red splatter across Lovino’s button up shirt.

The room went silent. Tino shivered as Lovino growled out, low but audible to the room, “This shirt is _Givenchy_.”

Feliciano’s face lost its color. “Oh god, Lovi, I didn’t know!” But it was too late, Because Lovino was lunging at him now, aiming for his throat. Feliciano yelped and they both went down throwing punches.

Tino sort of wanted to see who would win (he had a secret suspicion that Feliciano was actually really hardcore and faked being helpless so he could avoid confrontation), but Berwald elbowed him and motioned to the door. It was probably for the best. The less they witnessed the less they were responsible.

Ludwig had his badge out now and was demanding that they “Stop in the name of justice” but the other bar patrons were cheering.

They slipped out just as Lovino slapped Feliciano with an eggplant parmesan and Feli retaliated by crushing a plate of fish and chips into his brother’s face.

“You bastard you know I hate fish!” was the last thing they heard before Berwald shut the door behind them, grabbing Tino’s hand.

“N’ver a dull mom’nt,” Berwald said, and Tino started laughing, stopping abruptly when he caught sight of the bartender, Hercules, standing near the parking lot entrance with a cigarette.

“The code inspection was that good, huh?”

Hercules glanced at him but said nothing. There was a cat near his feet, pawing at the laces on his boots.

Tino was about to suggest that they move on to a different bar that didn’t have any of his employees in it when a dark green minivan rolled into the parking lot, going slightly under the speed limit. Tino watched the long line of cars that had been stuck behind it start to speed up and fly by. _Probably an elderly person_ , he thought, so he was surprised to see that, when it rolled up to the curb in front of Hercules, it was actually a young Asian man and a blonde teenage girl in the front seat.

“Kiku?” Hercules gasped.

He was slightly less surprised to see Matthias, Antonio and Berwald’s neighbor Wellesley crammed into the backseat because really, when it came to Matthias, there were no surprises. The sky was the limit.

“H’re we go ag’n,” Berwald grunted, and Matthias and Antonio waved awkwardly.

Another car swung into the lot, veering out of the traffic that was still recovering from Kiku’s slow driving, and Tino was mildly relieved to see that it was Lukas, pulling around to stop in front of him by the curb.

Kiku was out of the van, now, talking at Tino in a voice that was anything but calm. “This is the second time you have sent people to spy on my meetings, so I am kindly asking you to stop!”

“Well as long as you’re asking kindly,” Tino shrugged.

Then Kiku turned to Hercules. “Hera I know I don’t ask you for help often but this time I fear things have gotten out of control.” The girl in the front seat crossed her arms and made a sour face. “Also please stop smoking it is very bad for you.

“So,” Matthias began, sliding open the side door of the van to eye Hercules, who dropped his cigarette and stamped it out, “how do you two know each other?”

Kiku’s face went red and Hercules went very still. “Um we…”

“We met at the grocery store and we are just friends!” Kiku sputtered.

“Hey Tino, guess how the Censorship Society meeting went.” Lukas wondered, rolling down his window. He looked groggy, or maybe murderous. Hard to tell.

“Bad.”

“Correct. We were caught.”

“I figured.”

He reached out to adjust his side mirror. “We were also locked in a bathroom for about an hour.”

“Like on purpose?”

“No.”

Berwald grunted, which may or may not have been the equivalent of a laugh.

“And we caught the guy who beat up Feliks.”

“Oh good! What do you mean by caught?”

“Also. Antonio was raised in a cult. And the mission was a total success.”

“Wait, you got information?” Tino gasped, then when the whole sentence registered, “What was that first part?”

“There is literally not enough time and coffee on Earth for me to explain right now, but I promise you it is so worth the wait.”

“I think that we should probably go to the police,” Antonio was saying, following Matthias out of the van, and Tino got a very bad feeling. “If we explain what happened they won’t hold it against us. Also, he kept kicking my seat.”

“What exactly is happening?” Hercules yawned.

Kiku sighed and motioned for them to come to the rear of the van. Lukas turned off his car and followed and Wellesley shoved Antonio out of his way to get out of the back. The girl, who looked vaguely familiar (she might’ve been Ivan’s sister. Tino had definitely seen her in Facebook photos) stayed in her seat.

“Howdy neighbor,” he grinned at Berwald, and Tino was surprised that there wasn’t a hint of passive-aggressiveness in it.

Kiku popped the trunk as they crowded around to see, to Tino’s absolute horror that they had someone bound and gagged in the back of the van. He looked young, with gelled up black hair and crazed eyes ( _you’d be crazed to if you were tied up in a van_ , Tino thought).

The silence was stifling.

“This is the guy that beat up Feliks,” Matthias said, _way_ too happy and proud.

“Well,” Tino said, clearing his throat, “you definitely caught him.”

“On accident,” Antonio offered.

Tino sighed. _Well, good thing I’m an expert._

 

 


End file.
